Reading Some Girls Bite
by cwatker222
Summary: Pre books. several books appear on Ethan's desk. join him and several other to discover what will happen and what can be done to protect both Merit and Chicargo
1. Chapter 1

Ethan stared at the package on his desk. Inside was several books and a note. The note read;

_Dear Ethan Sullivan, Master of Cadogan House_

_It has been decided that certain events from the future should not be allowed to happen. And that some should happen sooner. Enclosed are books about the future to be read by the Masters of Grey and Cadogan with their chief of security along with Ombudsman and your Second. The future affects them all and is important to them to know. More books will be sent as things develop in the future. But be warned, you will learn many things from this and not all of them good_

_From_

_Mallory Carmichael_

He had to admit that he was intrigued by the message. With it excluding Navarre house, that could only mean that they are behind something that backfires on the others. He sighed. He knew what he had to do and called Scott Grey and informed him of the message, just not of the books and summoned Malik and Luc, his second and captain of the guard. He then called the Ombudsman, Chuck Merit who would be bringing along his old friend Catcher Bell. Oh yes, things were going to get interesting and to top it off, he may be able to use the books to gain some sort of protection for his vampires.

It took about two hours for everyone to gather in Ethan's private sitting room. He had had Margot prepare refreshments, because it was clear that the books would not be read in just one night there were after all around 9 books so far. When everyone was sitting and settled, Ethan cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Thank you for coming," said Ethan "I have gathered you all here for an interesting proposition." He took the books from the floor and put them on the desk. "These books were waiting for me on my desk when I rose tonight. They contain information about the future."

"That's impossible," said Luc "or at least it shouldn't be possible." Everyone looked towards Catcher. He just shook his head.

"It would take a lot of power," said Luc "and the cooperation of at least three magical races to do so, but it is possible, just unlikely. So you know who sent the books?" Ethan pulled out the letter.

"A woman by the name of Mallory Carmichael," said Ethan

"That is the name of my granddaughters roommate," said Chuck "as far as I am aware, she does not have any power let alone the sort that would send these books back through time."

"If they were sent by her roommate," started Scott Grey "then it would make sense that your granddaughter feature quite heavily in the future. What is her name?" Chuck sighed.

"She goes by Merit," said Chuck "but her full name is Caroline Evelyn Merit. My son named her after the daughter that he lost, so naturally she hates the name. If it is about Merit, then that means my son is involved in this somehow." Ethan and Malik exchanged glances. Ethan suddenly looked awkward. He cleared his throat.

"Chuck," started Ethan "Joshua Merit approached me a few months ago. He offered to give me a small fortune to change your granddaughter, with or without her consent." Chuck just sighed.

"Then these books are going to get very interesting," said Chuck "once he gets involved in your politics, he will continue to get involved until he gains some power."

"Thank you for the warning," said Ethan "but I have no intentions of turning Merit. I cannot be bought, especially when it comes to Turning a person."

There was a moment of silence.

"So," said Jonah, captain of Grey Guard "are we going to read these books or not?" everyone just nodded. Than reached over and picked up the first book. He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the title.

"The first book is called **'Some girls Bite'"** said Ethan "I will read the synopsis first and then we can decide who will read the first chapter" once again nods were exchanged** "**_**They killed me. They healed me. They changed me.**_

**Sure, the life of a graduate student wasn't exactly glamorous, but it was Merit's. She was doing fine until a rogue vampire attacked her. But he only got a sip before he was scared away by another bloodsucker–and this one decided the best way to save her life was to make her the walking undead.**

**Turns out her savior was the master vampire of Cadogan House. Now she's traded sweating over her thesis for learning to fit in at a Hyde Park mansion full of vamps loyal to Ethan Sullivan. Of course, as a tall, green-eyed, four-hundred- year-old vampire, he has centuries' worth of charm, but unfortunately he expects her gratitude–and servitude.**

**But an inconvenient sunlight allergy and Ethan's attitude are the least of her concerns. Someone?s still out to get her. Her initiation into Chicago's nightlife may be the first skirmish in a war–and there will be blood."**

"Apparently you do change Merit!" said Chuck "and I know for a fact that she would never be willingly turned." Ethan just shook his head.

"I wouldn't do that," said Ethan "the turning creates a bound between housemates. An unwilling turn would set her apart, something I doubt she would want."

"Since the first chapter will most likely be about Merit's turning" started Chuck "I will read first." Ethan handed the book over to Chuck, very much aware that he was on thin ice with someone with the power to make his life very uncomfortable. The others just hid smirks. Chuck cleared his throat " Chapter One;"


	2. Chapter 2

THE CHANGE

**Early April**

**Chicago, Illinois**

**At first, I wondered if it was karmic punishment. I'd sneered at the fancy vampires, and as some kind of cosmic retribution, I'd been made one. Vampire. Predator. Initiate into one of the oldest of the twelve vampire Houses in the United States.**

**And I wasn't just one of them.**

**I was one of the best.**

**But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me begin by telling you how I became a vampire, a story that starts weeks before my twenty-eighth birthday, the night I completed the transition. The night I awoke in the back of a limousine, three days after I'd been attacked walking across the University of Chicago campus.**

**I didn't remember all the details of the attack. But I remembered enough to be thrilled to be alive. To be shocked to be alive.**

"She was attacked," said Ethan "I must have changed her in order to save her life. But who would attack her? Malik, get a guard on her, I would only change her if a vampire attacked her." Luc nodded while Scott frowned.

"Why can't she remember anything?" asked Scott "she should be able to remember what happened and the Turn itself." Everyone just shook their heads.

**In the back of the limousine, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to unpack the memory of the attack. I'd heard footsteps, the sound muffled by dewy grass, before he grabbed me. I'd screamed and kicked, tried to fight my way out, but he pushed me down. He was preternaturally strong - supernaturally strong - and he bit my neck with a predatory ferocity that left little doubt about who he was. What he was.**

**Vampire.**

**But while he tore into skin and muscle, he didn't drink; he didn't have time. Without warning, he'd stopped and jumped away, running between buildings at the edge of the main quad.**

**My attacker temporarily vanquished, I'd raised a hand to the crux of my neck and shoulder, felt the sticky warmth. My vision was dimming, but I could see the wine- colored stain across my fingers clearly enough.**

**Then there was movement around me. Two men.**

**The men my attacker had been afraid of.**

**The first of them had sounded anxious. "He was fast. You'll need to hurry, Liege."**

"Guards were not enough," said Catcher "she was attacked anyway."

"something is not right." Said Scott "she seems to know something about vampires."

**The second had been unerringly confident. "I'll get it done."**

**He pulled me up to my knees, and knelt behind me, a supportive arm around my waist. He wore cologne - soapy and clean.**

**I tried to move, to give some struggle, but I was fading.**

**"Be still."**

**"She's lovely."**

**"Yes," he agreed. He suckled the wound at my neck. I twitched again, and he stroked my hair. "Be still."**

"She fights to the end," said Luc "she would make an interesting vampire and if trained she would make a good guard." Ethan nodded. Chuck just shook his head.

"You saved my granddaughter, so thank you" he said, Ethan nodded "but I won't envy you her reaction." Ethan raised an eyebrow.

"She is to become one of my vampires," said Ethan "and I saved her life, I would expect obedience." Chuck just shook his head again.

"You won't get that," said Chuck "she is intelligent and headstrong and will fight you all the way." Luc and Malik exchanged and amused look. They looked forward to reading about Ethan's reaction to Merit if that happened.

"Liege," said Luc "I offer to train her for a guard position, if she is going to take you on, she needs it." Laughter and smiles were hidden as Ethan looked flatly at his head of security.

"Aren't you meant to protect me?" he asked

**I recalled very little of the next three days, of the genetic restructuring that transformed me into a vampire. Even now, I only carry a handful of memories. Deep-seated, dull pain - shocks of it that bowed my body. Numbing cold. Darkness. A pair of intensely green eyes.**

"That… that almost sounds as if she was drugged," said Luc "I can understand why you would do so Liege, but to do so will deprive her of a bond with her housemates."

"And it could affect the turning process," said Catcher "modern science and magic don't always blend well. This will be interesting."

**In the limo, I felt for the scars that should have marred my neck and shoulders. The vampire that attacked me hadn't taken a clean bite - he'd torn at the skin at my neck like a starved animal. But the skin was smooth. No scars. No bumps. No bandages. I pulled my hand away and stared at the clean pale skin - and the short nails, perfectly painted cherry red.**

**The blood was gone - and I'd been manicured.**

**Staving off a wash of dizziness, I sat up. I was wearing different clothes. I'd been in jeans and a T-shirt. Now I wore a black cocktail dress, a sheath that fell to just below my knees, and three-inch-high black heels.**

**That made me a twenty-seven-year-old attack victim, clean and absurdly scar-free, wearing a cocktail dress that wasn't mine. I knew, then and there, that they'd made me one of them.**

**The Chicagoland Vampires.**

"It makes us sound like a cult," muttered Luc. Ethan shook his head.

"It is worse than that." said Ethan "it means that humans have been made aware of our existence and I know no plans of such a thing have been made."

"This means trouble for our houses," said Grey "there will be riots, protesters, groups and god knows what else."

"Scott," said Ethan "I propose inter house training of all vampires belonging to both our houses. We can help prepare each other and will aid each other during this crisis." Scott nodded in agreement.

**It had started eight months ago with a letter, a kind of vampire manifesto first published in the Sun-Times and Trib, then picked up by papers across the country. It was a coming-out, an announcement to the world of their existence. Some humans believed it a hoax, at least until the press conference that followed, in which three of them displayed their fangs. Human panic led to four days of riots in the Windy City and a run on water and canned goods sparked by public fear of a vampire apocalypse. The feds finally stepped in, ordering Congressional investigations, the hearings obsessively filmed and televised in order to pluck out every detail of the vampires' existence. And even though they'd been the ones to step forward, the vamps were tight-lipped about those details - the fang bearing, blood drinking, and night walking the only facts the public could be sure about.**

**"May I request the training starts as soon as we finish here?" asked Jonah "it sounds like we will go through quite a bad spot."**

**Eight months later, some humans were still afraid. Others were obsessed. With the lifestyle, with the lure of immortality, with the vampires themselves. In particular, with Celina Desaulniers, the glamorous Windy City she-vamp who'd apparently orchestrated the coming-out, and who'd made her debut during the first day of the Congressional hearings.**

"Celina exposes us?!**" **exclaimed Ethan "at least we know why Navarre house was not invited to this reading."

**Celina was tall and slim and sable-haired, and that day she wore a black suit snug enough to give the illusion that it had been poured onto her body. Looks aside, she was obviously smart and savvy, and she knew how to twist humans around her fingers. To wit: The senior senator from Idaho had asked her what she planned to do now that vampires had come out of the closet.**

**She'd famously replied in dulcet tones, "I'll be making the most of the dark."**

"She makes us sound like seducers," groaned Luc "and that means we will be hounded to be changed by god knows how many"

**The twenty-year Congressional veteran had smiled with such dopey-eyed lust that a picture of him made the front page of the New York Times.**

**No such reaction from me. I'd rolled my eyes and flipped off the television.**

There was silence as they took in that reaction. They then began to laugh.

"Interesting reaction," said Malik "I was expecting fear not indifference."

**I'd made fun of them, of her, of their pretensions.**

"She will definitely be an interesting vampire." Muttered Ethan

**And in return, they'd made me like them.**

**Wasn't karma a bitch?**

**Now they were sending me back home, but returning me differently. Notwithstanding the changes my body had endured, they'd glammed me up, cleaned me of blood, stripped me of clothing, and repackaged me in their image.**

**They killed me. They healed me. They changed me.**

**The tiny seed, that kernel of distrust of the ones who'd made me, rooted.**

"I saved her life!" said Ethan "I think that make be worthy of some trust!"

"But good Guard instincts," said Luc before looking towards Ethan "Liege, when you turn her, I want her joining the Guard." Ethan made no reply, just narrowed his eyes.

**I was still dizzy when the limousine stopped in front of the Wicker Park brownstone I shared with my roommate, Mallory. I wasn't sleepy, but groggy, mired in a haze across my consciousness that felt thick enough to wade through. Drugs, maybe, or a residual effect of the transition from human to vampire.**

**Mallory stood on the stoop, her shoulder-length ice blue hair shining beneath the bare bulb of the overhead light. She looked anxious, but seemed to be expecting me. She wore flannel pajamas patterned with sock monkeys. I realized it was late.**

**The limousine door opened, and I looked toward the house and then into the face of a man in a black uniform and cap who'd peeked into the backseat.**

**"Ma'am?" He held out a hand expectantly.**

**My fingers in his palm, I stepped onto the asphalt, my ankles wobbly in the stilettos. I rarely wore heels, jeans being my preferred uniform. Grad school didn't require much else.**

"Distrust added to this," said Catcher "you are screwed Sullivan." Everyone looked at him questioningly. He rolled his eyes "she probably will have to give up her education due to prejudices against vampires." All except Ethan laughed to mentally groaned at the thought of a recaltrant vampire.

**I heard a door shut. Seconds later, a hand gripped my elbow. My gaze traveled down the pale, slender arm to the bespectacled face it belonged to. She smiled at me, the woman who held my arm, the woman who must have emerged from the limo's front seat.**

**"Hello, dear. We're home now. I'll help you inside, and we'll get you settled."**

**Grogginess making me acquiescent, and not really having a good reason to argue anyway, I nodded to the woman, who looked to be in her late fifties. She had a short, sensible bob of steel gray hair and wore a tidy suit on her trim figure, carrying herself with a professional confidence. As we progressed down the sidewalk, Mallory moved cautiously down the first step, then the second, toward us.**

"**Merit?"**

**The woman patted my back. "She'll be fine, dear. She's just a little dizzy. I'm Helen. You must be Mallory?"**

"Merit will hate her," said Chuck offhandedly.

**Mallory nodded, but kept her gaze on me.**

**"Lovely home. Can we go inside?"**

**Mallory nodded again and traveled back up the steps. I began to follow, but the woman's grip on my arm stopped me. "You go by Merit, dear? Although that's your last name?"**

**I nodded at her.**

**She smiled patiently. "The newly risen utilize only a single name. Merit, if that's what you go by, would be yours. Only the Masters of each House are allowed to retain their last names. That's just one of the rules you'll need to remember." She leaned in conspiratorially. "And it's considered declasse to break the rules."**

**Her soft admonition sparked something in my mind, like the beam of a flashlight in the dark. I blinked at her. "Some would consider changing a person without their consent declasse, Helen."**

Luc smirked. "Can I just say, my Liege," started Luc "that I look forward to the day she clashes with you." The other vampires smirked and Ethan just rolled his eyes.

**The smile Helen fixed on her face didn't quite reach her eyes. "You were made a vampire in order to save your life, Merit. Consent is irrelevant." She glanced at Mallory "She could probably use a glass of water. I'll give you two a moment."**

**Mallory nodded, and Helen, who carried an ancient-looking leather satchel, moved past her into the brownstone. I walked up the remaining stairs on my own, but stopped when I reached Mallory. Her blue eyes swam with tears, a frown curving her cupid's bow mouth. She was extraordinarily, classically pretty, which was the reason she'd given for tinting her hair with packets of blue Kool-Aid. She claimed it was a way for her to distinguish herself. It was unusual, sure, but it wasn't a bad look for an ad executive, for a woman defined by her creativity.**

"and this is who sent the books?" said Scott "there is more to her then we can see."

"**You're - " She shook her head, then started again. "It's been three days. I didn't know where you were. I called your parents when you didn't come home. Your dad said he'd handle it. He told me not to call the police. He said someone had called him, told him you'd been attacked but were okay. That you were healing. They told your dad they'd bring you home when you were ready. I got a call a few minutes ago. They said you were on your way home." She pulled me into a fierce hug. "I'm gonna beat the shit out of you for not calling."**

**Mal pulled back, gave me a head-to-toe evaluation. "They said - you'd been changed."**

**I nodded, tears threatening to spill over.**

**"So you're a vampire?" she asked.**

**"I think. I just woke up or . . . I don't know."**

**"Do you feel any different?"**

**"I feel . . . slow."**

**Mallory nodded with confidence. "Effects of the change, probably. They say that happens. Things will settle." Mallory would know; unlike me, she followed all the vamp- related news. She offered a weak smile. "Hey, you're still Merit, right?"**

**Weirdly, I felt a prickle in the air emanating from my best friend and roommate. A tingle of something electric. But still sleepy, dizzy, I dismissed it.**

The room was frozen again. Slowly, one by one the other vampires and Chuck looked towards Catcher. He slowly nodded in affirmation.

"It sounds likely" he said "but it could just be a coincidence. But if it is not, she is a very powerful untrained Sorceress and best friends with a vampire. This will be very interesting." The others just nodded.

"We will look into it," said Chuck "and intervene if necessary."

**"I'm still me," I told her.**

**And I hoped that was true.**

**The brownstone had been owned by Mallory's great-aunt until her death four years ago. Mallory, who lost her parents in a car accident when she was young, inherited the house and everything in it, from the chintzy rugs that covered the hardwood floors, to the antique furniture, to the oil paintings of flower vases. It wasn't chic, but it was home, and it smelled like it - lemon-scented wood polish, cookies, dusty coziness. It smelled the same as it had three days go, but I realized that the scent was deeper. Richer.**

**Improved vampire senses, maybe?**

**When we entered the living room, Helen was sitting at the edge of our gingham- patterned sofa, her legs crossed at the ankles. A glass of water sat on the coffee table in front of her.**

**"Come in, ladies. Have a seat." She smiled and patted the couch. Mallory and I exchanged a glance and sat down. I took the seat next to Helen. Mallory sat on the matching love seat that faced the couch. Helen handed me the glass of water.**

**I brought it to my lips, but paused before sipping. "I can - eat and drink things other than blood?"**

**Helen's laugh tinkled. "Of course, dear. You can eat whatever you'd like. But you'll need blood for its nutritional value." She leaned toward me, touched my bare knee with the tips of her fingers. "And I daresay you'll enjoy it!" She said the words like she was imparting a delicious secret, sharing scandalous gossip about her next-door neighbor.**

**I sipped, discovered that water still tasted like water. I put the glass back on the table.**

**Helen tapped her hands against her knees, then favored us both with a bright smile. "Well, let's get to it, shall we?" She reached into the satchel at her feet and pulled out a dictionary-sized leather-bound book. The deep burgundy cover was inscribed in embossed gold letters - Canon of the North American Houses, Desk Reference. "This is everything you need to know about joining Cadogan House. It's not the full Canon, obviously, as the series is voluminous, but this will cover the basics"**

**"Cadogan House?" Mallory asked. "Seriously?"**

**I blinked at Mallory, then Helen. "What's Cadogan House?"**

"She seriously did not care about vampires in any way," muttered Ethan. Malik and Luc just shared meaningful looks.

**Helen looked at me over the top of her horn-rimmed glasses. "That's the House that you'll be Commended into. One of Chicago's three vampire Houses - Navarre, Cadogan, Grey. Only the Master of each House has the privilege of turning new vampires. You were turned by Cadogan's Master - "**

**"Ethan Sullivan," Mallory finished.**

**Helen nodded approvingly. "That's right."**

**I lifted brows at Mallory.**

**"Internet," she said. "You'd be amazed."**

**"Ethan is the House's second Master. He followed Peter Cadogan into the dark, so to speak."**

There was a moment of silence in homage of the Houses former Master.

**If only Masters could turn new vampires, this Ethan Sullivan must have been the vamp in the quad, the one who bit me during round two.**

**"This House," I began. "I'm, what, in a vampire sorority or something?"**

**Helen shook her head. "It's more complicated than that. All legitimate vampires in the world are affiliated with one House or other. There are currently twelve Houses in the United States; Cadogan is the fourth-oldest among those." Helen sat up even straighter, so I took a wild guess that she was also a flag-flying member of Cadogan House.**

There was a few chuckles at that.

**Helen handed me the book, which must have weighed ten pounds. I centered it in my lap, distributing the mass.**

**"You won't need to memorize the rules, of course, but you'll want to read the introductory sections and have at least a passing familiarity with the content. And of course you can refer to the text if you have specific questions. Make sure to read about the Commendation."**

**"What's the Commendation?"**

**"The initiation ceremony. You'll become an official member of the House, and you'll take your oaths to Ethan and the rest of the Cadogan vampires. And speaking of, payments typically begin two weeks after take the oath is taken."**

**I blinked. "Payments?"**

**She gave me one of those over-the-glasses looks. "Your salary, dear."**

**I laughed nervously, the sound strangled. "I don't need a salary. I'm a student. Teaching assistant. Stipend." I was three years into my graduate work, three chapters into my dissertation on romantic medieval literature.**

**Helen frowned. "Dear, you can't go back to school. The university doesn't admit vampires as students, and they certainly don't employ them. Title VII doesn't cover us yet. We went ahead and removed you, just to avoid the squabble, so you won't have to worry about - "**

**My pulse thudded in my ears. "What do you mean, you removed me?"**

**Her expression softened. "Merit, you're a vampire. A Cadogan Initiate. You can't go back to that life."**

**I was out the door before she was done talking, her voice echoing behind me as I rushed to the first-floor bedroom that served as our office. I wiggled the mouse to wake my computer, brought up a Web browser, and logged into the university server. The system recognized me, and my stomach unclenched in relief.**

**Then I brought up my records.**

**Two days ago, my status had been changed. I was listed as "Not Enrolled."**

**The world shifted.**

**I went back to the living room, my voice wavering as I fought through the quickly rising panic, and faced Helen. "What did you do? You had no right to take me out of school!"**

Everyone present winced. Scott turned to Ethan.

"May I wish you luck in the upcoming confrontation," he said "if I have learned one thing and that is not to piss off a new reluctant turn. This may be pushing her towards the Rogue vampires." Ethan's eyes darkened at the thought. He didn't know why but he felt protective of Merit beyond that of Master and novitiate

**Helen turned back to her satchel and pulled out a sheath of paper, her manner irritatingly calm. "Because Ethan feels your circumstances are . . . particular, you'll receive your salary from the House within the next ten business days. We've already arranged the direct deposit. The Commendation is scheduled on your seventh day, six days from now. You will appear when commanded. At the ceremony, Ethan will assign your position of service within the House." She smiled at me. "Perhaps something in public relations, given your family's connections to the city."**

Chuck winced at the assumption. He knew Merit hated being associated with her father.

"**Oh, lady. Wrong move, bringing up the parents," Mallory muttered.**

**She was right. It was exactly the wrong thing to say, my parents being one of my least favorite topics. But it was at least jarring enough to wake me from my daze. "I think we're done here," I told her. "It's time for you to leave."**

**Helen winged up an eyebrow. "It's not your house."**

**Brave of her to piss off the new vampire. But we were on my turf now, and I had allies.**

_Strategic thinking? _Thought Ethan _She will be an interesting addition to the House._

I** turned to Mallory with an evil grin. "How about we find out how much of the vampire myth is actually myth? Don't vampires have to have an invitation to be in someone's home?"**

**"I love the way you think," Mal said, then went to the door and opened it. "Helen," she said, "I want you out of my house."**

**Something stirred in the air, a sudden breeze that blew through the doorway and ruffled Mallory's hair - and raised goose bumps along my arms.**

"Yeah, she is a sorceress," said Catcher "and pissed off at Sullivan on Merits behalf. Good luck Ethan." There was laughter as Ethan just huffed at being the centre of yet another joke. If the ither books were going to be like this then he was going to have to get used to it fast. Though Merit seems to bring powerful allies to his House.

**"This is incredibly rude," Helen said, but yanked her satchel up. "Read the book, sign the forms. There's blood in the refrigerator. Drink it - a pint every other day. Stay away from sunlight and aspen stakes, and come when he commands you." She neared the door, and then, suddenly, like someone had flipped the switch on a vacuum, she was sucked onto the stoop.**

**I rushed to the doorway. Helen stood on the top step, glasses askew, staring back at us in disheveled shock. After a moment, she straightened her skirt and glasses, turned crisply, and walked down the stairs and toward the limo. "That was - very rude," she called back. "Don't think I won't tell Ethan about this!"**

**I gave her a pageant wave - hand cupped, barely swiveling.**

**"You do that, Helen," Mallory dared. "And tell him we said to fuck off while you're at it."**

There was more laughter at Ethan's expense.

**Helen turned to look at me, eyes blazing silver. Like, supernaturally silver. "You were undeserving," she sniped.**

**"I was unconsenting," I corrected and slammed the heavy oak door shut with enough force that it rattled the hinges. After the scritch of rocks on asphalt signaled the limo's retreat, I leaned back against the door and looked at Mallory.**

**She glared back. "They said you were on campus by yourself in the middle of the night!" She punched my arm, disgust obvious on her face. "What the hell were you thinking?"**

**That, I thought, was the release of the panic she'd suffered until she learned that I was coming home. It tightened my throat, knowing that she'd waited for me, worried for me.**

**"I had work to do."**

**"In the middle of the night?!"**

**"I said I had work to do!" I threw up my hands, irritation rising. "God, Mallory, this isn't my fault." My knees began to shake. I moved the few steps back to the couch and sat down. Repressed fear, horror, and violation overwhelmed me. I covered my face with my hands as the tears began to fall. "It wasn't my fault, Mallory. Everything - my life, school - is gone, and it wasn't my fault."**

There was silence as what Merit had lost and was going through hit them. Ethan was going to have a very upset vampire confront him and he found that he understood it as it brought back memories of his own turning. He and his new vampire were going to have an interesting relationship.

I** felt the cushion dip beside me and an arm around my shoulders.**

**"Oh, God, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm freaked out. I was so scared, Mer, Jesus. I know it's not your fault." She held me while I sobbed, rubbed my back while I cried hard enough to hiccup, while I mourned the loss of my life, of my humanity.**

**We sat there together for a long time, my best friend and I. She offered Kleenex as I replayed the few things I could remember - the attack, the second set of vampires, the cold and pain, the hazy limo ride.**

**When I'd sobbed my body empty of tears, Mallory stroked the hair from my face. "It'll be okay. I promise. I'll call the university in the morning. And if you can't go back . . . we'll figure something out. In the meantime, you should call your grandfather. He'll want to know you're okay."**

**I** shook my head, not yet ready to have that conversation. My grandfather's love had always been unconditional, but then again, I'd always been human. I wasn't ready to test the correlation. "I'll start with Mom and Dad," I promised. "Then I'll let word trickle down."

"Tacky," Mallory accused, but let it go. "The House, I guess it was, did call me, but I don't know who else they contacted. The call was pretty short. 'Merit was attacked on campus two nights ago. In order to save her life, we've made her a vampire. She'll return home tonight. She may be dizzy from the change, so please be home to assist her during the first crucial hours. Thank you.' It sounded like a recording, to be real honest."

"So this Ethan Sullivan's a cheapo," I concluded. "We'll add that to the list of reasons we don't like him."

Ethan raised an eyebrow as the other laughed, taking in the fact that he was wearing Armani, he was slightly insulted to be called cheap. He was anything but.

**"Him turning you into a soul-sucking creature of the night being number one on that list?"**

**I nodded ruefully. "That's definitely number one." I shifted and glanced over at her. "They made me like them. He made me like them, this Sullivan."**

**Mallory made a sound of frustration. "I know. I am so effing jealous." Mal was a student of the paranormal; as long as I'd known her, she'd had a keen interest in all things fanged and freaky. She put her palm to her chest. "I'm the occultist in the family, and yet it's you, the English lit geek, they turn? Even Buffy would feel that sting. Although," she said, her gaze appraising, "you will make damn good research material."**

**I snorted. "But research material for what? Who the hell am I now?"**

**"You're Merit," she said with conviction that warmed my heart. "But kind of Merit 2.0. And I have to say, the phone call notwithstanding, this Sullivan's not a cheapo about everything. Those shoes are Jimmy Choo, and that dress is runway-worthy." She clucked her tongue. "He's dressed you up like his own personal model. And frankly, Mer, you look good."**

"Finally," said Ethan "I am anything but cheap," there was more laughter.

"Liege," started Malik "I think she will be insulted that you felt you had the right to dress her up like a Barbie doll. Most women do fell insulted when you do that."

**Good, I thought, was relative. I looked down at the cocktail dress, smoothed my hands over the slick, black fabric. "I liked who I was, Mal. My life wasn't perfect, but I was happy."**

"**I know, hon. But maybe you'll like this, too."**

**I doubted it. Seriously.**

Chuck put the book back on the table as they all paused to consider what they had just learnt. They were going to be revealed and then there was the vampire attacks.

"We need to be more active in helping the police," said Ethan "I get the feeling that Merit wasn't the only attack and if that is true, our seeming popularity could easily shift." The others nodded.

"I will make contact with the commissioner and suggest it," said Chuck "My granddaughter getting attacked is what my work is meant to prevent."

"We also need to keep an eye on Celina," added Scott "there is an agenda behind all this, and we just need to find out what it is."

"Agreed," said Luc "though I look forward to seeing future Merit/Sullivan Clashes." There was laughter at this.

"I agree," said Malik "You represent what she hates and have taken away a lot of what she has worked for. She will not be happy."

"Which mean I gain a troublemaker," said Ethan "though she shows promise as a guard, so I May just give her too Luc to be his problem." Chuck chuckled

"I know my granddaughter," said Chuck "it will be you she makes trouble for. Who wants to read next?" Luc raised his hand and Chuck gave him the book. He flipped to the right page.


	3. Chapter 3

**RICH PEOPLE AREN'T NICER - THEY JUST HAVE BETTER CARS**

My parents were new-money Chicago.

My grandfather, Chuck Merit, had served the city for thirty-four years as a cop - walking a beat in Chicago's South Side until he joined the CPD's Bureau of Investigative Services. He was a legend in the Chicago Police Department.

But while he brought home a solid middle-class living, things were occasionally tight for the family. My grandmother came from money, but she'd turned down an inheritance from her overbearing, old-Chicago-money-having father. Although it was her decision, my father blamed my grandfather for the fact that he wasn't raised in the lifestyle to which he thought he should have been accustomed. Burned by the imagined betrayal and irritated by a childhood of living carefully on a cop's salary, my father made it his personal goal to accumulate as much money as possible, to the exclusion of everything else.

"Joshua never learnt that there were some things more important than money," sighed Chuck "I fear I failed a great deal with him. Now all he seeks is more money and power."

"There is little defence against greed," said Jonah "especially since it can easily be blamed on someone else."

"She hated that life and still hasn't touched her trust fund," said Chuck "She says its because money doesn't buy love."****

He was very, very good at it.

Merit Properties, my father's real estate development company, managed high-rises and apartment complexes throughout the city. He was also a member of the powerful Chicago Growth Council, which was made up of representatives of the city's business community and which advised the city's newly re-elected mayor, Seth Tate, on planning and development issues. My father took great pride in, and often remarked upon, his relationship with Tate. Frankly, I just thought that reflected poorly on the mayor.

"She definitely hates her father," said Jonah "and it seems that he will play a part in the future."****

Of course, because I'd grown up a Chicago Merit, I'd been able to reap the benefits that came with the name - big house, summer camp, ballet lessons, nice clothes. But while the financial benefits were great, my parents, especially my father, were not the most compassionate people. Joshua Merit wanted to create a legacy, all else be damned. He wanted the perfect wife, the perfect children, and the perfect position among Chicago's social and financial elite. Little wonder that I worshipped my grandparents, who understood the meaning of unconditional love.

"Is her Father that bad?" asked Ethan. Chuck just nodded. ****

I couldn't imagine my father was going to be happy about my new vampiric identity. But I was a big girl, so after I washed my face of tears, I got into my car - an old boxy Volvo I'd scrimped to pay for - and drove to their home in Oak Park.

When I arrived, I parked the Volvo in the drive that arced in front of the house. The building was a massive postmodern concrete box, completely out of place next to the more subtle Prairie Style buildings around it. Money clearly did not buy taste.

"Clearly," grimaced Chuck "I have hated that house since it was first built. It is a nightmare to navigate."****

I walked to the front door. It was opened before I could knock. I glanced up. Dour gray eyes looked down at me from nearly seven feet of skinny white guy. "Ms. Merit."

"Hello, Peabody."

****Chuck chuckled. "She always did hate him. Just as she hated that life."

**"Pennebaker."**

"That's what I said." Of course I knew his name. Pennebaker, the butler, was my father's first big purchase. Pennebaker had a "spare the rod" mentality about child rearing and always took my father's side - snooping, tattling, and generally sparing no details about what he imagined was my rebellious childhood. Realistically, I was probably lower than average in the rebellion department, but I had perfect siblings - my older sister, Charlotte, now married to a heart surgeon and pumping out children, and my older brother, Robert, who was being groomed to take over the family business. As a single twenty-seven-year-old graduate student, even though studying at one of the best universities in the country, I was a second-class Merit. And now I was coming home with a big ol' nasty.

I walked inside, feeling the woosh of air on my back as Pennebaker shut the door firmly behind me and then stepped in front of me.

"Your parents are in the front parlor," he intoned. "You are expected. They've been unduly concerned about your welfare. You worry your father with these" - he looked down disdainfully - "things you get involved in."

Ethan just shook his head. Merit would not like being in his control and would fight him about it often. He found himself rather looking forward to it.****

I took offense to that, but opted not to correct his misunderstanding of the degree to which I'd consented to being changed. He wouldn't have believed me anyway.

I walked past him, following the hallway to the front parlor and pushing open the room's top-hinged door. My mother, Meredith Merit, rose from one of the room's severe boxy sofas. Even at eleven p.m., she wore heels and a linen dress, a strand of pearls around her neck. Her blond hair was perfectly coiffed, her eyes pale green.

Mom rushed to me, hands extended. "You're okay?" She cupped my cheeks with long- nailed fingers and looked me over. "You're okay?"

I smiled politely. "I'm fine." Relative to their understanding, that was true.

My father, tall and lean like me, with the same chestnut hair and blue eyes, was on the opposite sofa, still in a suit despite the hour. He looked at me over half-cocked reading glasses, a move he might as well have borrowed from Helen, but it was no less effective on a human than a vampire. He snapped closed the paper he'd been reading and placed it on the couch beside him.

"Vampires?" He managed to make the single word both a question and an accusation.

"I was attacked on campus."

My mother gasped, clutched a hand to her heart, and looked back at my father. "Joshua! On campus! They're attacking people!"

My father kept his gaze on me, but I could see the surprise in his eyes. "Attacked?"

"I was attacked by one vampire, but a different vampire turned me." I recalled the few words I'd heard, the fear in the voice of Ethan Sullivan's companion. "I think the first one ran away, was scared away, and the second ones were afraid I was going to die." Not quite the truth - the companion feared it might happen; Sullivan seemed supremely confident it would. And that he could alter my fate when it did.

"Two sets of vampires? At U. of C.?"

I shrugged, having wondered the same thing.

My father crossed his legs. "And speaking of, why, in God's name, were you wandering around campus by yourself in the middle of the night?"

A spark fired in my stomach. Anger, maybe mixed with a hint of self-pity, not uncommon emotions when it came to dealing with my father. I usually played meek, fearful that raising my voice would push my parents to voice their own long-lived desires for a different younger daughter. But to everything, there is a season, right?

Chuck just shook his head. "I never agreed with Joshua about how he raised his children. Two of them believe the best thing to look for in a person is their bank account first, then the actual person. Merit was too much like me."

"I suppose being made to feel like a replacement daughter did not help either." Said Luc "no wonder she wants nothing to do with her family. I wouldn't want anything to do with them either."

"I tried to get him to choose a different name but," said Chuck "Merit often came to me in tears asking why her father loved her sister's ghost more than her." There were many winces at that statement.

"That may explain why he wants Merit to be immortal," said Scott "if he sees Merit as Caroline, then he wants to ensure that it will be hard to lose her through conventional means."

"He got what he wanted," said Malik "and now he has a daughter in vampire society that can get him influence in that society. He sees her as a way to leave a legacy in the vampire world as well, long passed anything that may happen to the human family."

"I just hope I don't need Joshua Merit for anything," said Ethan "because I can see that back firing on me"****

"I was working."

His responsive huff said plenty.

"I was working," I repeated, twenty-seven years of pent-up assertiveness in my tone. "I was heading to pick up some papers, and I was attacked. It wasn't a choice, and it wasn't my fault. He tore out my throat."

My father scanned the clear skin at my throat and looked doubtful - God forbid a Merit, a Chicago Merit, couldn't stand up for herself - but he forged ahead. "And this Cadogan House. They're old, but not as old as Navarre House."

Chuck sighed. "He is already looking at ways he can manipulate the connection." Ethan shook his head.

"I am not so easily manipulated," said Ethan "he will not gain power over me or my vampires and that includes Merit."****

Since I hadn't yet mentioned Cadogan House, I assumed whoever had called my parents mentioned the affiliation. And my father had apparently done some research.

"I don't know much about the Houses," I admitted, thinking that was more Mallory's arena.

My father's expression made it clear that he wasn't satisfied by my answer. "I only got back tonight," I said, defending myself. "They dropped me off at the house two hours ago. I wasn't sure if you'd heard from anyone or thought I was hurt or something, so I came by."

"We got a call." His tone was dry. "From the House. Your roommate - "

"Mallory," I interrupted. "Her name is Mallory."

" - told us when you didn't come home. The House called and informed us that you'd been attacked. They said you were recuperating. I contacted your grandfather and your brother and sister, so there was no need to contact the police department." He paused. "I don't want them involved in this, Merit."

The fact that my father was unwilling to investigate the attack on his daughter notwithstanding, my scars were gone anyway. I touched my neck. "I think it's a little late for the police."

Catcher winced "he cares more about image than the safety of his daughter? The attacker may come after her again!"

"She will be one of mine," said Ethan softly "and she will not be harmed."

Malik and Luc just looked at one another. They could tell that their Master was falling for a girl he had never met and who would stand up for herself. It was a better match than his current consort, who was just a gold digger. She was not very liked in the House.****

My father, evidently unimpressed by my forensic analysis, rose from the couch and approached me. "I've worked hard to bring this family up from nothing. I will not see it torn down again." His cheeks were flushed crimson. My mother, who'd moved to stand at his side, touched his arm and quietly said his name.

I bristled at the "again," but resisted the urge to argue with my father's assessment of our family history, reminding him, "Becoming a vampire wasn't my choice."

"You've always had your head in the clouds. Always dreaming about romantic gibberish." I assumed that was a knock against my dissertation. "And now this." He walked away, strode to a floor-to-ceiling window, and stared out of it. "Just - stay on your side of town. And stay out of trouble."

I thought he was done, that the admonishment was the end of it, but then he turned, and gazed at me through narrowed eyes. "And if you do anything to tarnish our name, I'll disinherit you fast enough to make your head spin."

My father, ladies and gentlemen.

"What a bastard," said Scott "his daughter was nearly killed and all he cares about was how it reflected on his family." Chuck just sighed.

"Joshua has a lot of pride," said Chuck "and it wouldn't be the first time he has threatened her. But he does love her, he just doesn't know how to show it."

"By caring that his daughter was nearly killed," said Ethan "and to stop being hypocritical. He came to this House to bargain away Merits mortality and now he judges her for it."****

By the time I made it back to Wicker Park, I was red-eyed and splotchy again, having cried my way east. I didn't know why my father's behavior surprised me; it was completely in keeping with his principal goal in life: improving his social standing. My near-death experience and the fact that I'd become a bloodsucker weren't as important in his tidy little world as the threat I posed to their status.

It was late when I pulled the car into the narrow garage beside the house - nearly one a.m. The brownstone was dark, the neighborhood quiet, and I guessed Mallory was asleep in her upstairs bedroom. Unlike me, she still had a job at her Michigan Avenue ad firm, and she was usually in the Loop by seven a.m. But when I unlocked the front door, I found her on the couch, staring blankly at the television.

"You need to see this," she said, without looking up. I kicked off the heels, walked around the sofa to the television, and stared. The headline at the bottom of the screen read, ominously, Chicagoland vamps deny role in murder.

I looked at Mallory. "Murder?"

"They found a girl dead in Grant Park. Her name is Jennifer Porter. Her throat was ripped out. They found her tonight, but think she was killed a week ago - three days before you were attacked."

"Oh, my God." I dropped onto the sofa behind me, pulled up my knees. "They think vamps did this?"

"A vampire is killing humans brutally and leaving their bodies out in the open," growled Ethan "that means trouble is going to be brought to Cadogan House" Malik and Luc nodded, already going over contingency plans in their heads. Things were going to get difficult fast and with this information, they could easily neutralise the threats to the House****

"Watch," Mallory said.

On screen, four men and a woman - Celina Desaulniers - stood behind a wooden podium.

A swath of print and broadcast reporters huddled before it, their microphones, cameras, recorders, and notepads in hand.

In perfect sequence, the quintet stepped forward.

The man in the middle of the group, tall with a spill of dark hair around his shoulders, leaned over the microphone.

"My name," he said, in a wine-warm voice, "is Alexander. These are my friends and associates. As you know, we are vampires."

The room erupted in flashes of light, reporters frantically snapping images of the ensemble. Seemingly oblivious to the flash of the strobes, they stood stoically, side by side, perfectly still.

"We are here," Alexander said, "to extend our deepest sympathies to the family and friends of Jennifer Porter, and to promise to do our part to assist the Chicago Police Department and other law enforcement agencies in any way that we can. We offer our aid and condemn the acts of those who would take human life. There is no need for such violence, and it has long been abhorred by the civilized among us. As you know, although we must take blood to survive, we have long-established procedures that prevent us from victimizing those who do not share our craving. Murder is perpetrated only by our enemies. And rest assured, my friends, they are your enemies and ours, alike."

Alexander paused, but then continued, his voice edgier. "It has come to our attention that a pendant from one of Chicago's Houses, Cadogan, was found at the crime scene."

"Oh, my God," Mallory whispered.

"Someone is framing us," growled Ethan his eyes turning quicksilver.

"If one house has been framed, what are the odds that Grey will be next?" asked Scott ****

I kept my eyes on the screen.

"Although our comrades from Cadogan House do drink from humans," Alexander continued, "they are meticulous in ensuring that the humans who donate blood are fully informed and fully consenting. And Chicago's other vampires do not, under any circumstances, take human blood. Thus, it is our belief, although only a hypothesis at this early time, that the medal was placed at the scene of the crime solely to inculpate the residents of Cadogan House. To suggest otherwise is unjustified supposition."

Without another word, Alexander fell back in line next to his comrades.

Celina stepped forward. At first, she was silent, her gaze scanning the reporters in front of her. She smiled softly, and you could practically hear the reporters' sighs. But the innocence in her expression was a little too innocent to be believable. A little too forced.

"We are devastated by the death of Jennifer Porter," she said, "and by the accusations that have been leveled against our colleagues. Although Navarre House vampires do not drink, we respect the decisions of other Houses to engage in that practice. The resources of Navarre House are at the city's disposal. This crime offends us all, and Navarre House will not rest until the killer is caught and prosecuted."

Celina nodded at the bank of reporters, then turned and walked offscreen, the rest of her vampires falling in line behind her.

Mallory muted the television and turned back to me. "What the hell have you gotten yourself into?"

"They say the Houses aren't involved," I pointed out.

"She says Navarre isn't involved," Mallory said. "She seems pretty willing to throw the other Houses to the wolves. And besides, vampires were involved when you turned up almost dead. A vampire attacked you. That's too many fangs to be coincidental."

Celina is not proving to be a useful ally," said Ethan "she should be defending all the houses, not just her own"

"She is making things harder for the other houses," said Scott "after Cadogan, Grey would be next and we will prove a better ally to Cadogan than she is."

"She is basically pinning this on us," said Malik "but making it look like she is defending us against her better judgement."****

I caught the direction of her thoughts. "You think I'm, what, number two? That I was supposed to be the second victim?"

"You were the second victim," she said. She used the remote to turn off the television. "And I think it's an awfully big coincidence that your throat was ripped out on campus. It's not exactly a park, but it's close enough. Look," she said, pointing back at the television.

A picture of Jennifer Porter, a small shot from an ID card, filled the screen. Dark brown hair, blue eyes, just like me.

"They were hunting Merit," said Jonah "but she has had nothing to do with the houses or even vampires so why is she a target?"

"Let's just add that to the list of things that we need to investigate," said Luc.****

We shared a moment of silence.

"And speaking of heinous people," Mallory finally said, "how was the visit home?" Mallory had met my parents only once, when I couldn't hold off an introduction any longer. She'd just adopted the blue-hair regimen. Needless to say, they weren't impressed. Creativity, even if benign, was not tolerated in the Merit house. After the one visit, during which Mal had barely avoided socking my father in the jaw, I decided not to force them on her again.

"Not great."

"I'm sorry."

I shrugged. "My expectations were low going in, just not as low as they should have been." I took a long look at the giant leather Canon on top of the coffee table, then reached out and pulled it into my lap. "They were concerned, I guess, but mostly I got a lecture about embarrassing the family." I put my hands in the air, waggled my fingers for dramatic effect. "You know, the Chicago Merits. Like that means anything."

Mallory snorted softly. "Unfortunately, it does mean something. You only have to look at the Trib to know that. Did you go see your grandpa?"

"Not yet."

"You need to."

"I will," I quickly replied, "when I'm up to it."

"Why is she so hesitant to call me?" said Chuck "I couldn't care less that she is a vampire, she is still my granddaughter."

"She is just nervous," said Ethan "she is like many unconsenting turns that way, not that there are many."****

"Bullshit," she said, grabbing the cordless phone from its cradle next to the couch. "He's more of a father to you than Joshua ever was. And you know he's always up. Call him." She handed the receiver over, and I clutched it, stared down at the rubbery blue buttons.

"Damn it," I muttered, but punched in his number. I lifted the phone to my ear, clenching my hand to control the shaking, and silently prayed that he could be understanding. The phone rang three times before the machine kicked on.

"Hi, Grandpa," I said at the beep. "It's Merit. I wanted to let you know I'm home and I'm okay. I'll come over as soon as I can." I hung up the phone and handed the receiver back to Mallory.

"Way to be an adult," she said, reaching across the couch to return it to its cradle.

"Hey, I'm pretty sure I can still kick your ass, undead or not."

She snorted disdainfully. She was quiet for a moment, then cautiously offered, "Maybe something good could come from this."

I slid her a sideways glance. "Meaning?"

"Meaning, maybe you could get laid?"

"Jesus, Mallory. So not the point," I said, but gave her points for the hit on my nonexistent dating life. Mallory blamed the cold spell on me, said I "didn't put myself out there." What was that supposed to mean? I went out. I hung out in coffeehouses, went to English department FACs. Mallory and I went out almost every weekend to catch bands, Chicago being a hub for touring indies. But I also had to focus on finishing my dissertation. I'd assumed there'd be time for boys after. I guess I had an (undead) eternity for it now.

Mallory put an arm around my shoulder, squeezed. "Look. You're a vampire now. A vampire." She looked me over, took in the Cadogan makeover. "They've definitely improved your fashion sense, and pretty soon you'll have this whole goth-chic-undead thing going on."

I lifted brows.

"Seriously. You're tall, smart, pretty. You're like eighty percent legs." She cocked her head and frowned at them. "I hate you a little for that."

"You've got better boobs," I acknowledged. And just as we'd done each time we'd had this boobs-versus-legs conversation, we looked down at our chests. Ogled. Compared. My boobs were fine, if a little on the small side. Hers were perfect.

"Women actually have these conversations?" asked Luc bewildered "remind me to never interrupt a girls night." The other men just nodded.****

"So I do," she finally said, but waved a hand dismissively. "But that's beside the point. The point is, you're great-looking, and although it personally irks you, you're the daughter of Joshua Merit. Everyone knows his name. And for all that, you haven't had a date in, what, a year?"

Fourteen months, but who was counting?

"If you're out there doing your hot new vampire thing, it could open up a new world for you."

"Right, Mal. That's a phone call home I'm gonna make." I raised my hand, arched my fingers to mimic a telephone receiver. "Hi, Dad. It's the daughter you barely tolerate. Yeah, I know you're disappointed I'm the walking undead, but vampire guys are seriously hot." I mimicked hanging up the phone. "No, thanks. I'm not going to date a vampire."

Ethan couldn't help the flash of disappointment at that comment, which did not go unmissed by many present. The feeling of anticipation built up as they contemplated the approaching confrontation.****

She put her head on my shoulder. "Hon, you are a vampire."

I rubbed my temples, which were beginning to throb. "I know, and it sucks. I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Mallory sighed impatiently, but didn't say anything else about it. She pushed back into the couch cushions and tapped the cover of the guide to vampire life, still closed in my lap, with a finger. "So, you're going to read it?"

"I should probably understand the ground rules. And since I have all night . . ."

"Well, I don't have all night." She rose and stretched. "I've got to get some sleep. I've got an early meeting. Have fun with your vampire book."

"Night, Mal. Thanks for waiting up."

"No problem. I'll call U of C tomorrow and let you know what they say about re-enrolling." She walked out of the room, but peeked back in, her hand wrapped around the oak doorframe. "Just to review, you're pissed about being made a vampire, and we hate this Ethan Sullivan guy, right?"

I thumbed through the Canon's thick, ancient-looking pages, scrolling through the acknowledgments and table of contents, my drifting gaze stilling when I reached the title of chapter two: "Servicing Your Lord."

"Oh, yeah," I assured her. "We hate him."

Laughter broke out once again. Ethan chuckled before turning to Malik.

"Make a note to change the titles of the book," said Ethan his eyes sparkling with amusement "to avoid misunderstandings."

**I slept on the couch, book in my hands. I'd spent the final hours of the evening, long after Mallory had dragged herself upstairs, pouring through the Canon. I was wide- awake for the review, the transition to vampire already reversing my sleep schedule, at least until the wave of exhaustion hit me at sunrise. As dawn approached, I could feel the sun creeping up, preparing to breach the horizon. As it rose, so did the weighty drowsiness. What was it that Carl Sandburg had said about fog? That it crept in like a cat? That was how the exhaustion came. It crept in, silent but assuredly there, and covered me like a heavy velvet blanket.**

But where falling asleep was incremental, I woke suddenly, finding myself wrapped in an ancient musty quilt. I unraveled my limbs, and looked out to see Mallory on the love seat in jeans and a Cubs T-shirt, staring at me curiously.

"Were you trying to mummify me?"

"There are windows in the room," she pointed out, "and you were too heavy to get upstairs. I leave you exposed to the sun all day and I definitely don't get this month's rent." She rose, walked closer, and looked me over. "No burns or anything?"

I threw the blanket on the floor and surveyed my body. I was still in the slinky cocktail dress, and the parts of skin that showed looked fine, maybe better than they had before the change. And I felt a helluva lot better than I had the night before, the sluggishness having finally cleared. I was now a healthy bloodsucking vampire. Yay!

"Nah," I told her, sparing her the internal monologue. "I think I'm good. Thanks."

Mallory tapped nails against her thigh. "I think we need to spend a little time tonight, you know, checking you out. Figuring out what we're dealing with, what your needs are. Write down stuff you might need."

I lifted my brows skeptically. Mallory was brilliant, without a doubt. Case in point: She'd landed the job as an advertising executive at McGettrick-Combs right after college - literally the day after she graduated from Northwestern. Said Mallory: "Mr. McGettrick, I want to work for your firm." Said grumpy, balls-to-the-wall Alec McGettrick: "Be here at eight a.m. Monday morning."

"When she begins training, she will have to give up that job," said Catcher "she gained it by abusing her powers, whether she knew or not, she will not be allowed to keep it."****

But Mallory was an idea person, not a detail person, which was probably why she was so valuable to Alec and crew. For her to suggest that I make a list - well, that just wasn't typical Mallory.

"You feeling okay, Mal?"

She shrugged. "You're my best friend. Least I can do." Mallory cleared her throat, looked blankly at the wall. "That said, the refrigerator is now filled with blood that was delivered before you woke up, and there's an eight hundred number on the side to order more." Her mouth twitched, and I could tell she was trying not to laugh.

"Why are you chortling at my food?"

She closed her eyes. "The company that does this vampire delivery thing? It's called 'Blood4You.' Unoriginal much? I mean, they've got a captive audience, but still, take your branding seriously, for Christ's sake. They need a new name, new image, repackaging. . . ." Her eyes glazed over, probably as potential logos and mascots danced in her head to the sound track of the jingle she'd no doubt already conceptualized.

"Never mind," she finally said, shaking her head as if to clear it. "I'm not at work. In more important news, I bought a leather curtain for your bedroom. It's huge, so it completely covers the window. That should give you a safe place to crash, although it totally clashes with the decor." She looked critically around the room. "Such as it is."

When Mallory moved in, she hadn't made any changes to the brownstone beyond divvying up bedrooms, stocking the fridge, and adding electronics. So the decor, such as it was, remained Aunt Rose-ish. The woman took her name seriously, and covered virtually every free surface with flowered doilies or throw rugs. Even the wallpaper was dotted with cabbage-sized roses.

"That sounds horrible," said Ethan. Luc and Malik hid their amusement. Their Master had been the one to design the House and actually enjoyed doing so. Such girl and garish interior decorating would definitely annoy him.****

"Again, thanks."

"In case it matters, you were actually sleeping."

I grinned at her. "You checked?"

"I held a finger under your nose. I didn't know if you were breathing, or if you just kind of . . . died. Some books say vampires do that, you know, during the day."

"What else would she do for curiosity's sake?" wondered Ethan aloud "she could prove dangerous is she leans towards the darker side of magic."

"We will keep a close eye on her," said Catcher "she shouldn't turn her attention to that side if properly educated, but it all depends on the teacher she gets assigned." Ethan turned to Luc.

"Make sure we have contingencies for a powerful sorceress." Said Ethan "just in case"****

And Mallory, being a student of the occult, would know. If she hadn't been so well- matched to her job at a Chicago ad agency, she would have dedicated her life to vampires and the like - and that was even before she knew they were real. As it was, she put in the time during her off-hours. And now she had me, her own little in-house vampire pet. Vampet?

"It felt like sleep," I confirmed, and stood, laying the book on the floor between us and realizing what I was still wearing. "I've been in this dress for twenty-four hours. I need an excruciatingly long shower and a change of clothes."

"Knock yourself out. And don't use all my conditioner, dead girl."

I snorted and walked to the stairs. "I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because someday you want to be as kick-ass cool as me."

"Please. You're a total fang hag."

Laughter issued from the living room. "We're going to have some serious fun with this."

I doubted that, too, but I'd wallowed enough, so I swallowed my doubts and padded upstairs.

I avoided looking at the bathroom mirror just in case, fearful that I'd find no reflection there, but stood beneath the showerhead until the hot water ran out, cherishing the prickles of heat, and thinking about my new . . . existence? Helen had mentioned the basics - stakes, sunlight, blood - but she'd avoided the metaphysics. Who was I? What was I? Soulless? Dead? Undead?

"I hate Dracula" muttered Ethan. The other vampires just nodded while the non vampires tried not to laugh. It was pretty ironic though.****

Forcing myself to face at least part of the issue, I brushed a hand over the fogged mirror, praying for a reflection. The steam swirled in the small bathroom, but revealed me, damp and mostly covered by a pink bath sheet, the relief in my expression obvious.

I frowned at the mirror, tried to puzzle out the rest of it. I'd never been explicitly religious. Church, to my parents, was an excuse to show off Prada loafers and their newest Mercedes convertible. But I'd always been quietly spiritual. I tried, my parents notwithstanding, to be grateful for the things I'd been given, to be thankful for the things that reminded me that I was a small cog in a very big wheel: the lake on a moodily cloudy day; the gracious divinity of Elgar's "The Lark Ascending"; the quiet dignity of a Cassat painting at the Art Institute.

So as I shivered, naked and damp, in front of the bathroom mirror, I raised my eyes skyward. "I hope we're still okay."

I got no answer, but then, I didn't really expect one. Answer or not, it didn't matter. That's the thing about faith, I guess.

Twenty minutes later, I emerged downstairs, clean and dry, and back in jeans. I'd settled for a favorite low-waisted pair and teamed it with two thin, layered T-shirts in white and a pale blue that matched my eyes, and a pair of black Mihara Pumas. At three inches short of six feet, I had no need for heels. The only accoutrement missing from the ensemble was the black elastic I kept on my right wrist for hair emergencies. Today, I'd already pulled my dark hair up into a high ponytail, leaving the fringe of straight-cut bangs across my forehead.

I found Mallory downstairs in the kitchen. She sat on a stool at the kitchen island, a Diet Coke on the counter before her, a copy of Cosmo in her hands.

"What'd you learn last night in your vampire bible?" she asked, without looking up.

Preparing myself for the retelling, I nabbed a soda from the refrigerator, popped the tab, and slid onto a stool next to her. "Like Helen said, there're twelve vampire Houses in the United States; three in Chicago. The House arrangement is kind of . . . Well, think feudal England. Except instead of a baron, you've got a Master vampire in charge of everything."

"Ethan," she offered.

I nodded my agreement. "For Cadogan, Ethan. He's the most powerful vamp in the House. The rest of the vampires are basically his minions - we have to take an oath to serve him, swear our allegiance, that kind of thing. He even gets a fancy title."

She looked up, brows lifted.

"He's my 'Liege.' "

Mallory tried unsuccessfully to hide a snicker - which ended up sounding strangled and anemic - before turning back to her magazine. "You have to call Darth Sullivan your 'Liege'?"

There was silence. Then everyone but Ethan burst out laughing. Ethan though kept mouthing 'Darth Sullivan'.

"Oh My liege," said Luc "I believe that you have now found the perfect nickname!" the other laughed again.

"If anyone calls me that," began Ethan "I will know who to blame and who will be my next sparring partner." Luc Grimaced. It was humiliating going up against Ethan and hard work.****

I grinned. "Only if I expect him to answer."

She snorted. "What else?"

"The Houses are like" - I paused to think of a good analogy - "company towns. Some vamps work for the House. Maybe guards or public relations folks or whatever. They've got administrators, docs who work outside the House, even some historic positions. All of them get a stipend."

"Historic positions?"

I took a sip of my soda. "Ethan has a 'Second,' like a second-in-command or something."

"Ooh, like Riker?"

Did I mentioned she also loved Star Trek: The Next Generation ? "Sure. There's also a 'Sentinel,' which is like a guard for the House."

"A redundant title," said Ethan "no one uses them anymore"****

"For the brand?"

I nodded at the apt metaphor. "Exactly. And the House itself is in Hyde Park. Think mansion."

Mallory looked appropriately impressed. "Well. If you're going to be attacked and unwillingly made a vampire, let it be a rich and fancy vampire, I guess."

"That's an argument."

"How many Cadogan vamps?"

"Three hundred and eight nationally. Eighty-six actually live in the House proper. They get dorm rooms or something."

"So these vamps live in a mansion-slash-frat house, and you get a stipend just for having pointier teeth." She cocked her head at me. "How much cash is it, exactly?"

"Decent. Better than TA-ing."

"Minus the free will."

"There is that."

"My vampire have free will," huffed Ethan. Luc snorted.

"Your security don't" said Luc "You're a mean bastard when it comes to that."****

Mal cleared her throat, put the can on the counter, linked her hands together, then looked over at me. I guessed I wasn't going to like whatever confession she was about to make.

"I called the university."

The tone of her voice made my heart sink. "Did you tell them none of this was my choice?"

Her gaze dropped to the counter. "Merit, they don't admit vampires. They don't have to do it legally, and they're afraid of the lawsuits if one of you was to, you know" - she frowned, waved a hand in the air - "with the teeth and the biting. Honestly, if Helen hadn't done it, the university would have dropped you when they found out."

That seed of hatred unfolded, sprouted. "But I wouldn't have told them," I persisted. "How else would they have known? I could have rearranged my schedule, taken night classes. . . ."

Mallory shook her head, handed me, with somber expression, a folded newspaper that lay on the tabletop. It was the morning's Trib, open to a page that bore the word "CONGRATULATIONS!" in bold Gothic letters across the top.

I popped the paper open. The banner topped off a full-page ad in the lifestyles section. A list of names, twelve columns of them, a dozen names in each column. The text read: The North American Vampire Registry congratulates the following new Initiates. May your service be fruitful and fulfilling.

I scanned the Houses: Navarre, McDonald, Cabot, Cadogan, Taylor, Lincoln, Washington, Heart, Lassiter, Grey, Murphy, Sheridan. My name was listed in the Cadogan column.

My stomach clenched.

"Some reporters called," Mallory quietly said. "They left messages on the machine. They want to talk to you about being a vampire. A Merit vampire."

"Reporters?" I shook my head and chucked the paper back onto the table. "I can't believe this. I can't believe they'd do this. That they'd out me." I scrubbed hands across my face, tried to contain the anger that was beginning to well.

Chuck winced. "Merit has quite the temper, I wish you luck when she confronts you, you will need it and possible a few guards as well."

"As long as I get to witness it," commented Luc "I have a feeling that it will be entertaining." Ethan's eyes narrowed.

"You will be stuck in the Guard room," said Ethan "and nowhere near that confrontation." Luc pouted much to the others amusement.

"It is a creative nickname," said Scott "though you may not find it so."****

"Are you okay?" Mallory asked.

I dropped my hands and looked at her, willing her to understand. "I could have pretended, made sure no one knew. All I had to do was take evening classes, which wouldn't have been so hard. My committee would have worked with me. Goddamn it! I didn't even get a chance to try!"

The fury rose, quick, hot, and strong. It itched beneath my skin like my body was one size too small to contain it. Like my body didn't fit. I rolled my shoulders in irritation, the anger still swelling.

I wanted to hit something. Fight something. Bite something. I slowly turned my head, cast a covetous glance at the refrigerator.

"Should it be hitting her like that?" questioned Chuck, frowning. The vampires shook their heads.

"Maybe the drugs did affect the Turning," said Catcher, Ethan closed his eyes at the thought of what he had done to Merit. Or would do. He had already turned her without permission, now he had corrupted her turning?****

"Jesus H., Merit."

I flicked a glance her way. Mallory's eyes were wide, her hands clenched at the edge of the countertop. I heard the quick, flat double-thudding of a drum, and realized it was the thump of her heartbeat.

Eyebrows were risen at her sudden super hearing. Something was not adding up****

"What?" I whispered.

She reached out a hand, but snatched it back. "Your eyes. Your irises are completely silver."

I ran from the kitchen to the first-floor bathroom, flipped on the light, and stared at myself. She was right. The blue of my eyes had become gleaming silver, the pupils dilated to pinpricks.

Mallory squeezed into the tiny powder room behind me. "You got angry. It must happen when you get angry."

Angry or thirsty, I silently amended, since I'd just considered drinking blood as a means of stress relief.

"Open your mouth."

My eyes still silver, our gazes met in the mirror. I hesitated for a moment, having to work up the courage for it, knowing what I'd see when I did.

I opened my mouth, saw the fangs that had descended from my upper jaw. My eyeteeth had lengthened, the tips becoming longer, sharper. That must have happened when I'd considered raiding the refrigerator. I'm not sure what it said about who I was now that I hadn't noticed at the time.

I murmured a worried curse.

"Those weren't there before."

"I know," I bit out.

"I'm sorry, but that's wicked fucking cool."

I snapped my mouth shut, and pointed out through a clenched jaw, "Not so cool the first time I get the urge to make you an afternoon snack."

"You wouldn't do that."

Her tone was easy, wholly confident, but I had no such faith. "I hope not."

She picked up a lock of my straight, long hair. "Your hair is darker." She cocked her head at me. "Maybe 'sable,' instead of 'chestnut.' And your skin is paler. You have this kind of . . . undead glow."

I stared at my reflection. She was right - darker hair, paler skin, like the stereotypical vamp.

Ethan closed his eyes and pictured it. This women seemed perfect for the vampire life. She was going to be a great asset to him and what is more is that she sounded so beautiful. The turning did not affect every vampire that way. She would be magnificent.****

"What else do you feel? Stronger? Better hearing? Eyesight? Any of that?"

I blinked at my reflection. "I see the same stuff, and my hearing level is the same." I thought of the smells of the house, the richness there. "Maybe a little better sense of smell? And I'm not bombarded or anything, but when I got excited, I could kind of sense new things." I didn't mention the prickle in the air I'd felt around her, or the fact that the new things I could sense included the resounding thud of her heartbeat.

Mallory leaned against the doorframe. "Since my hands-on experience with the walking dead is, like, eighteen hours old, this is just a guess, but I bet there's an easy way to take care of this silver-eyes problem."

This should be good. "And that would be?"

"Blood."

We put it on the island, along with a martini glass, an iced tea glass, a food thermometer, a bottle of Hershey's chocolate syrup, and a jar of olives, both of us unsure how best to attack. Mallory jabbed the bag with the blunt end of a bamboo skewer. It gurgled, and the depression in one side of the medical-grade plastic slowly filled back in. She made a sound of disgust and looked at me with sympathetic eyes. "Jesus, Merit."

I nodded and looked down at the bag of type O. It was one of the seven that had been delivered. There was one of each type - A, B, AB and O - and three extra bags of O. It was supposed to have universal appeal, I guessed.

"Liquid, liquid everywhere and not a drop to drink," I observed.

"Ugh. English lit geek much?"

"Corporate oppressor."

"Nerd."

"Blue-haired weirdo."

"Guilty as charged." She picked up the iced tea glass and handed it to me. "Now or never, Merit. She said you needed a pint every other day."

"I'm kind of assuming that's an average. You know - four pints a week, give or take, averaging to one every other day. And I probably had one before they dropped me off yesterday. So I don't really need to open it until tomorrow."

Mallory frowned at me. "You don't want to even try it? It's blood, and you're a vampire. You should be ripping at the plastic with those sharp-ass teeth just to get to the stuff." She held up the bag between two fingers, waggled it in the air. "Blood. Yummy, delicious blood." The crimson liquid shuffled back and forth in the bag as she waggled it, making little waves in a tiny, self-contained ocean. And it was making me seasick.

I put a defensive hand over my abdomen. "Just put the bag down, Mallory."

**She did, and we stared at it for another few minutes until I looked up at her. "I think I'm just not hungry for it. Surely it would be more appealing if I really, really wanted it."**

"She needs blood," said Ethan "she is a new turn and is already denying her basic nature. This could lead to catastrophe."****

"Are you hungry for anything?"

I scanned the library of cereal boxes on top of the refrigerator, the stash owing in part to Mallory's preparations for the rumored vampire apocalypse. "Hand me the box of Chunkee Choco Bits. The marshmallow kind."

"Done and done," she said, and slid off her stool. She went to the refrigerator, reached up, grabbed the box, and walked back to hand it over. I opened and reached into it, grabbing a handful of cereal, then picking through it to get to the marshmallows, which I popped into my mouth. "None for you?"

"Mark's coming over," she carefully said, "if that's okay with you."

Mark was Mallory's sweet but aimless boyfriend. I gave them two more weeks. "Fine with me. Make him bring Chinese. But if he annoys me, I'll probably have to bite him."

She rolled her eyes. "Vampire bitch."

I shrugged and picked through another handful of cereal. "I'm just warning you, I'm probably going to be a total hard-ass vamp."

Mallory snorted and walked out of the kitchen, calling out, "Yeah, well, you've got a purple marshmallow on your chin, hard-ass vamp."

I peeled it away and, between my thumb and index finger, flicked it into the kitchen sink. Stuff like that was going to ruin my reputation.

At twenty-five, Mark Perkins decided he wanted to swim the English Channel. At twenty- six, he decided he wanted to climb Everest. Then it was Machu Picchu, base-jumping, ghost-hunting in New Orleans and racing the Utah salt flats. Unlike Mallory, who rarely planned, Mark planned with a vengeance.

He just never actually did anything.

"What exactly is the point of that?" asked Luc "why put in all that effort only to not finish it?"

"Humans," said Malik "no offense, but when a vampire plans something, it happens unless something more important occurs."****

Tall and thin with short brown hair, he blew through our front door like a tempest, arms laden with guidebooks, maps, and two paper bags with greasy bottoms.

"Chinese!" Mallory squealed, leaping to the door when he came in. She pecked his cheek, grabbed a bag of food, and headed to the kitchen. I'd been reading again, so I returned the book to its spot on the coffee table.

He nodded in my direction, dumped his own books on the love seat, and followed Mallory. "Merit."

"Hi, Mark." I gave him a little finger wave and rose from the couch, but I paused before following him to check his literature. On the couch, their glossy, mountain-pictured labels read: The Greatest Adventure Book Ever, Climbing for Dummies, and Your Big, Fat Swiss Adventure. The Matterhorn, apparently, was next on Mark's list. Poor, sweet, dumb Mark.

"She's gone fang, Mark," Mallory called out. "So be careful."

Halfway to the kitchen, Mark stopped midstride and turned to face me, grinning like an idiot. "Kick. Fucking. Ass."

I rolled my eyes and snatched the remaining bag of Chinese. "Kick your own ass. Did you get crab rangoon?"

He frowned. "What do vampires need with crab rangoon?"

We moved into the kitchen. I put the bag on the kitchen counter and picked through it until I found the paper box of fried crab-and-cream-cheese-stuffed dough and a container of sweet-and-sour sauce. I popped them both open, dipped a wrap in the sauce, and bit in. They were still hot - and I groaned happily at the taste: sweet, salty, crispy, creamy. Everything a newly changed vampire could want.  
"Orgasms, apparently," Mallory snarked, and pulled out her own containers of food. She pulled one open, then broke open a set of chopsticks, stared into the container, pulled out a chunk of broccoli, and munched.

Ethn closed his eyes. There was something about this girl that would cause great change. Plus he was attracted to her through a book.****

"So, how long have you been the walking dead?" Mark asked.

Mallory choked. I thumped her, ever so helpfully, on the back.

"I'm on day two," I told him, and pulled out another bit of fried wanton heaven. "So far, it's been uneventful."

Famous last words, those.

We'd been eating about ten minutes when we heard glass shatter in the front of the house. Our heads snapped up at the sound. We stood simultaneously, but I motioned Mark and Mallory back down. Mallory's eyes widened, and I guessed what she'd seen: My blood hummed with adrenaline, and I knew my eyes had gone silver.

"Stay here," I told them, and walked across the kitchen. I flipped off the overhead light and moved into the unlit hallway. There were no other sounds in the house, and I didn't hear anything outside - cars revving, people screaming, sirens flaring. Carefully hugging the walls, I crept into the living room. The living room window - a picture window made up of a single sheet of glass - had been shattered from the outside in. A brick lay on the floor, wrapped in white paper, a breeze fluttering one corner of it. First things first, I thought, ignoring the missile to pick my way across the glass to the front door and check the peephole. The yard was empty and quiet. It was dark out, so theoretically our attackers could have been hiding in the shrubbery, but I knew no one was there. I could kind of . . . tell. There were no sounds, no smells, no indications that anyone had been near the house beyond the light, acrid scent of car exhaust. They'd driven by, done the deed, and moved on.

I went back to the brick, reached down to pick it up, and pulled away the band of paper. In scraggly black script, it read:

Think UR 2 good 4 us, Cadogan bitch?

Next time U die.

Magic leaked into the air as Ethan's eyes silvered, his fangs decended and he growled low in his chest. "How dare they threaten one of my vampires!"

"Calm down, my liege," said Malik "we can still prevent this happening."****

The threat was clear enough, and I guessed that I now qualified as the "Cadogan bitch." But "too good for us" stumped me. It sounded like a choice - like I'd chosen Cadogan out of the catalog of vampire Houses. It was profoundly untrue, and a good clue - the vandal didn't know me, at least not well enough to understand how inaccurate the statement really was. How little choice I'd had.

Mark's voice rang out. "Merit?"

I looked up, found them huddled in the doorway, and felt my chest tighten protectively. It took me a moment - a surprising one - to realize that the tingle in my limbs wasn't fear, but adrenaline. I beckoned them forward with a folded hand. "It's okay. You can come in. Just watch the glass."

Mallory stepped carefully into the room, tiptoed through the fragments. "Jesus. The window - what happened?"

"Holy crap," Mark agreed, surveying the damage.

Mallory looked up at me, eyes bright with fear. "What happened?"

I handed her the note. She read it, then met my gaze. "You're the bitch?"

I shrugged. "I assume so, but I don't understand the threat."

Mark walked to the door, opened it slowly, and looked outside. "Nothing else out here," he called out, "just some glass." He drew back in, his gaze moving between us. "You've got some plywood or something I could hang over the window?"

I looked to Mallory, who shrugged. "There might be something in the garage."

He nodded. "I'll go check. I'll be right back."

When the front door shut behind him, Mallory looked down at the note in her hands. "Do you think we should call the cops?"

"No," I told her, remembering my father's admonition. But an idea dawned. I took the note back from her and stuffed it into my pocket. "I think we should go to the House."

Ten minutes later, Mark was balancing on the edge of the stoop, securing an old sheet of particleboard over the window, and Mallory and I were pulling the car out of the garage, Hyde Park address in hand. Mark wasn't thrilled that Mallory was planning to visit a den of vampires in the middle of the night, but I think that stemmed mostly from the fact that he hadn't been invited to tag along. His blusters about her safety didn't read sincere given the awestruck expression on his face.  


"He protests but o follow through," said Catcher "he is useless. His girlfriend is threatened, but does her seek to protect her? No." Ethan nodded, agreeing with Catcher

"When Merit is mine," said Ethan, not realising his slip or the raised eyebrows shooting up around the room "she will be protected, not allowed to be unguarded while under threat." The others exchanged looks before Malik sighed.

"I got this one," said Malik "Liege, you just said '_When_ Merit is mine'" Ethan flushed slightly before glaring.

**To mollify him, we promised to keep our cell phones in hand. Apparently thinking extra precautions were warranted, Mark ran down the driveway as we pulled out, and when Mallory rolled down the passenger-side window, he stuffed a good-luck charm into her hands.**

"What's this?" she asked him.

"Garlic." He slid a glance to me, then winged his eyebrows at Mallory. "Vampires," he whispered through a tightly clenched jaw, as if the movement of his lips was the Rosetta stone that was gonna key me into his secret code.  


"I hate Dracula," muttered all the vampire present.

**I can still hear, Mark," I reminded him.**

He blushed and shrugged apologetically. Mallory shook the plastic take-out container of organic prepeeled garlic and held it beneath my nose. I sniffed, waited for a reaction, and when nothing happened, shrugged.

"I'm not sure Whole Foods is what Buffy had in mind, hon, but thanks for the thought." She blew a kiss to Mark, and we watched him return to his station at the window. As I pulled the Volvo out of the driveway, Mallory threw the plastic bin into the backseat. "I'm not sure how long this thing with Mark is going to last."

"Huh," I remarked, trying to remain supportively neutral. "Not going well?"

"He's well-meaning, I guess, and we have fun." She shrugged. "I don't know. There's just not much there - beneath the camaraderie, I mean."

I nodded. "I get that."

She waved a hand in the air. "More important issue at hand." She swiveled in her seat to face me. "Before we hit Hyde Park, I want to be sure what we're doing. Are we going to kick vampire ass, or are we just going to ask about this death-threat issue?"  


Everyone but Ethan laughed.

"I am so gonna be there when she arrives," said Luc "if only to see what happens."

**I gnawed the inside of my lip as I considered her question. We were walking into a nest of trouble, and had only ourselves - an ad executive and a not-quite-two-day-old vampire - as weapons. And while Mallory spent an hour in the gym every day, and I had ten years of ballet lessons and a lot of jogged miles under my belt, I doubted either of those would help significantly. They certainly hadn't helped a few days ago.**

"We're going to talk to them calmly and rationally," I decided.

"And you're not going to tell Darth Sullivan you reject his fascist assumption of authority?"

I stifled a laugh. "Maybe not at this first meeting, no."

Traffic was light; the drive didn't take long. Mallory served as navigator, checking the directions we'd printed off the Web. "We're getting close," she finally said, and instructed me to turn left. When we reached the address, we gaped.

"Oh, my God."

"I know. I see it." I parallel parked in an empty slot on the street - between a Beemer and Mercedes, incidentally - and we got out of the car. The House, and it was a mansion, took up a whole block. The building was surrounded by an intricately wrought, ten-foot-high, black iron fence. The interior of the fence was lined with shrubs and hedges, so the lawns were shielded from public view. The House itself was gigantic, three pale limestone stories leading to a slate mansard roof. There was a turret on one corner and tall rectangular windows ringed the floors. Gabled dormer windows and widows' walks gave the top floor a Gothic look. But overall, while the building was imposing and the lot larger than those nearby, it looked at home beside its Hyde Park neighbors.

Well, except for the vampire thing.

Mallory squeezed my hand. "You ready?"

"No," I admitted. "But I need to do this."

We followed the sidewalk to a gap in the iron fence where two black-clad men stood, swords belted at their sides. Both were tall and lean, with long, straight dark hair, tied back tightly. They looked alike, the guards, their just-this-side-of-gaunt facial features fraternally similar.

The one on the left whispered something into his mouthpiece, then touched his earpiece, and finally nodded at me. "You can go in," he told me, then shifted his gaze to Mallory. "But she can't."

Easy decision. "She goes, or I don't."

He turned his back on us, and I heard faint whispering as he touched the headset again. When he turned back again, a nod was the only affirmation we got.

As we walked up the sidewalk, Mallory took my hand and squeezed it. "Chatty fellows. They had swords."

Not just swords, I thought, glancing back at the lean, slightly curved scabbards and long, straight handles.

"I think they're katanas." These were the swords of the samurai, a fact I'd learned while researching weaponry for my dissertation. Although I was interested in the romantic side of medieval literature - think Lancelot and Tristan - the genre was heavy on the war and weapons.

"Do you think you'll get a sword?"

"What the hell would I do with a sword?" We reached the front door, which was unguarded. The portico that covered it was arched, and four symbols, the lowest one a stylized "C," hung above the door.

"Hmm," I said. "Knock or just go in, do you think?"

We were saved the decision. The door was opened by a tall, exquisitely handsome man with caramel-colored skin. His hair was short, his eyes a pale green. He wore a black suit that was perfectly fitted to his frame, and a crisp white dress shirt beneath. He extended a hand. "Malik."

This was the second vampire. Not the one who turned me, but his colleague.

"Merit," I said, taking his hand. "And Mallory."

His nostrils flared as he looked at Mallory, and his brows lifted. "Magic?"

Mallory and I looked at each other. "I beg your pardon?" I asked. He didn't respond, but moved aside to let us enter.

The interior of the House was as impressive as the outside. Contrary to what I'd expected - black tulle, leather furniture, red candles, pentagrams - the House was very tastefully decorated. Actually, it looked like a five-star hotel. The floors were gleaming wood, the high ceilings girded by ancient beams of thick oak. The decor - lots of inlaid woods, urns of flowers, carefully selected lighting - was sophisticated and French- inspired. Malik escorted us past one parlor and into another.

"Stay here," he instructed in a tone that brooked no argument. We obeyed, Mallory and I standing shoulder to shoulder in the doorway so we could survey the room. Ten or so men and women, all dressed in trendy black suits, milled around, some with PDAs in hand, others on couches perusing laptop computers. I felt incredibly gauche in jeans and a T-shirt, especially when their gazes began to fall on Mallory and me.

"New girl," Mal whispered. "It's like your first day at school."

I nodded. "Feels like that."

"Do you think he's in here? Sullivan, I mean?"

I looked around, which was futile. "Maybe?" I offered. "I don't know what he looks like." I hadn't gotten a good look at his face when he bit me, and if he'd been there while I was recuperating, I had no memory of it. I had an inkling that he belonged to the distinctly green eyes I remembered, but that was only a hunch.

"Use your spidey sense."

I chuckled. "Even if I had a spidey sense, I wouldn't know how to use it."

A voice suddenly echoed through the parlor - louder than the quiet whispering of the working vamps. "That's fine, Celina. I appreciate your calling me."

The words belonged to a man with a cell phone at his ear who'd stepped into the doorway on the opposite side of the long room. He was tall, two or three inches over six feet, and lean like a swimmer - narrow waist, broad shoulders, long legs. His hair was straight, shoulder-length, and golden-blond. His face was chiseled - knife-edge cheekbones and a firm jaw, his brow strong, his lips worth calling home about. He was dressed in a black suit that fit his body like a glove, beneath which was an impeccably white dress shirt, top button unclasped, no tie.

"He's prettier than Beckham," Mallory breathlessly whispered. "Jesus."

I nodded in silent agreement. He was incredibly handsome.

The blond was accompanied by an equally attractive redhead, her skin luminously pale. She wore only a slim burnt orange cocktail dress, the toes of her bare feet painted red. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and while she stood intimately close to the blond, she scanned the room with an almost mechanical precision. She looked around, saw Mallory and me, and tensed. Then she leaned toward the blond and whispered something. He raised his head, a lock of golden hair across his brow, and looked up.

Our gazes locked. He stared, and I stared back.

A chill raced up my spine, an eerie premonition of something I couldn't quite discern. Vampires definitely had some sort of spidey sense, and mine was sending up flares - enormous, fiery flares that put the Fourth of July fireworks at Navy Pier to shame. I pushed down the sensation and the disturbing, burgeoning sense of familiarity. I didn't want him to be familiar. I didn't want him to know me, to know who I was, to have taken part in my change. I wanted this beautiful man to be new to the House, a regular vampire doing a hard night's work for the Master he secretly loathed. I wanted him to approach me, introduce himself, be pleasantly surprised that I was a vampire and that I'd just joined his cool kids' club.

I couldn't tear my eyes away. I stared. He stared back, lips parted in shock or surprise, his knuckles white around the file folder he held in his free hand.

The rest of the room stilled and quieted as the vampires watched us, probably waiting for cues - Should we jump the new girl? Mock her for wearing jeans and sneaks? Welcome her into the ancient brotherhood of vampires with a pancake breakfast and mixer?

Making some decision, the blond snapped his cell phone shut and walked toward us, his stride confident and swift. Each step seemed to make him more handsome - his perfectly sculpted features coming into sharper relief.

Before that moment, before watching him walk toward me, I'd been a normal girl. If I saw a boy I found attractive, I might smile. I might, on the rare occasion, say hello or give someone my phone number. I wouldn't say I was forward, but I made a move when I was interested. But something about this boy, maybe mixed with the fact that I'd recently become a vampire, made every molecule in my body tingle. I wanted to sink my fingers into his hair and push my lips against his. I wanted to claim him for my own - the rising of some deep-seated, instinctual need. Time seemed to speed up, to zip by, my body driving me toward a fate my head didn't understand. My heart thudded, hammerlike inside my chest, and I could feel the blood rushing through my veins.

Mallory leaned toward me. "FYI, your eyes are silver. I'll just add 'horny' to the list of reasons that happens."

I nodded absently.

My beautiful blond moved closer, until he stood in front of me, until, looking up, I could see the color of his eyes.

They were a deep, translucent, emerald green.

Impossibly green.

And as my heart sunk, I realized, familiarly green.

"Shit," was all I could think to say.

Our rangy Beckham look-alike was my sworn enemy.

There was silence before the room was filled with out of control laughter while Ethan simply glared.

"Oh, Master," said Malik "things will definitely get interesting when she arrives. She comes up with fascinating comparisons."


	4. Chapter 4

Jonah picked up the book. He had to admit, this was far more entertaining than he had thought the night would go. The RG would be interested in what was going to happen. He would have to recommend that they keep a closer eye on Navarre.

**YOU GOTTA FIGHT FOR YOUR RIGHT.**

"Merit?"

Pulled from my fantasy by the sudden flood of adrenaline, I clenched my hands into fists. I'd heard about the fight-or-flight instinct - the animalistic drive to dig in and fight for survival or to run away, seek shelter or cover. Before tonight, it had always been an abstract construct. Biological trivia. But I felt it after the attack on our house, and as I faced Ethan Sullivan for the first time, I felt it intimately. Some previously absent part of my psyche awoke and began to evaluate surroundings, to debate whether to set heel to the ground and get as far away from him as possible, or face him, stand against him, and even if the effort was doomed, to see what I was made of.

Ethan closed his eyes and sighed. He saw the signs for what it was. "Her turning did not go through properly. The vampire in her is completely separate from her humanity."

"As a potential risk," started Luc "we need to make sure that doesn't happen for the simple reason that it could drive her crazy and we would be forced to stake her." Ethan growled.

"It will not come to that."****

This was one of those moments, I thought, one of those make-or-break moments that set the direction of your life, that remind you about **courage**** and free will.**

I felt a nudge at my ribs, and heard a fierce whisper. "Merit!" I looked beside me, where Mallory stood, eying me curiously. "Are you okay? Ethan was just saying hello. Did you have something you wanted to say to him, maybe regarding an eath-day eat-thray?"

I slid my gaze back to Ethan, who watched me cautiously, then let my focus shift to the vampires, who stood at attention in the room. They'd stopped tapping the keys of their PDAs and were outright staring. Without looking at him, I asked, "Can we speak privately?"

He paused, apparently surprised, and then said in a voice smooth enough to send a second chill down my spine, "Of course."

His hand at my elbow, Ethan escorted me through the crowd of gaping vampires, back into the hallway, and then into the room next door. It was an office, masculine and well- appointed. His office. To the right was a sizable oak desk; to the left was a seating area of **brown leather**** furniture. At the end of the room was a long, oval-shaped conference table, which stood just before a bank of windows covered by navy blue velvet curtains. Both side walls were lined with built-in shelves covered in books, trophies, ****photographs****, and memorabilia.**

Mallory followed us in, and Ethan closed the door. He waved his hand in invitation at **two**** chairs that sat in front of his desk, but Mallory moved to the shelves at the far end of the room and, hands crossed behind her back, began to peruse the mementos. She gave us privacy without leaving me alone with him. Appreciating the gesture, I remained standing.**

Ethan crossed his arms and gazed at me expectantly. "Well? To what do I owe the pleasure, Merit?"

I stared at him blankly for a moment, trying to remember why I thought visiting the Hyde Park office of a Master vampire was a good idea, when my mouth, which apparently wasn't privy to the internal debate, suddenly blurted out, "I didn't give you permission to change me."

"To the point at least," smiled Catcher "and I can sense a lot of conflict about to happen." Chuck sighed.

"I warned you that she would not be happy," he said. Ethan just shook his head, deep in thought about the signs that Merit had repressed. There were some clear indications that would lead to an interesting House Life.

**Ethan stared at me for a moment before turning his head. He walked away, moving with self-assurance to the leather chair behind his desk. For all the tailored clothes and impeccable looks, his power was obvious. He fairly hummed with it, and while his movements were crisp and elegant, they hinted at something ****darker****, something menacing beneath the surface - a shark arcing below deceptively smooth water.**

He shuffled papers on his desk, then crossed his legs and looked up at me with those obscenely emerald eyes. "Frankly, that's not what I expected to hear. I was hoping for something along the lines of 'Thank you, my Liege, for saving my life. I do so enjoy being alive.' "

Chuck snorted. "You just gave Merit a free pass to tell you exactly what she wants to."****

"If saving me had really been your goal, you could have taken me to a hospital. A doctor could have saved me. You unilaterally decided to make me something else."

He furrowed his brow. "Do you think the vampire who bit you first intended to let you live?"

"I didn't have a chance to ask him."

Malik, Scott, Catcher and Jonah all exchanges anticipatory grins.

"You will have your hands full with her Liege," said Malik "Might I recommend raises for anyone that will have to mediate your fights?" everyone hid their laughter at the flat look that Ethan gave to his second.****

"Don't be naive."

I'd seen the press conference about Jennifer Porter's death, knew about the similarities between our attacks. So, unable to argue that point, I made another. "My life will never be the same."

"Yes, Merit," he said, frustration in his voice, "your human life will never be the same. It was, regrettably, taken from you. But we've given you another."

Chuck winced "yeah, not a selling point with Merit. You are treating her like a child, explain the situation more fully. Mention what her father was trying to do and how you saved her." Ethan nodded, the green in his eyes seeming more intense than ever.

**"It should have been my decision."**

"I was a little short on time, Merit. And given that you are fully aware of the choice I had to make, this petulant attitude is beneath you."

Luc smirked. Yes, he would enjoy the fights between Merit and his Master. But he would also enjoy the downfall of Amber. Ethan may care for her, but he would love Merit more than anything he held dear. Besides, he was sick of Amber's superiority complex when it came to the house Hierarchy. She believed that she should have special attention simply because she was sleeping with Ethan.****

I didn't disagree, but who was he to tell me that? My throat constricted with emotion. "Excuse me for not having adjusted to the fact that my life has been turned upside down. Excuse me for not reacting to that with grace."

"Or gratefulness," he muttered, and I wondered if he knew he'd been loud enough for me to hear him. "I gave you a life. And I made you like me. Like the rest of your brothers and sisters. Are we such **monsters****?"**

Ethan winced. He could tell that he hadn't handled that very well and was likely just causing more distance between himself and a Novitiate that would need him more ythan the average new born vampire.****

I wish I could have said yes. I wanted to say yes, to feign horror.

But a tear ran down my cheek, propelled by some **combination**** of rage and guilt that I wasn't as repelled by Ethan Sullivan as I'd planned to be. I wiped away the tear with the back of my hand.**

Ethan looked at me for a long time, and I could read the disappointment in his eyes. It bothered me, that disappointment, more than I cared to **admit****.**

He steepled his fingers together on the desk, leaned forward. "Then perhaps I made a mistake. Cadogan House was allowed twelve new vampires this year, Merit. That makes you one-twelfth of my **allotment****. Do you think you were worth it? Do you think you can contribute to Cadogan in sufficient measure to repay that investment? Was my bringing you into the House a better decision than saving someone else to whom I might have given a new life?"**

Scott whistled. "The guilt trip, interesting choice but at least you are finally reading Merit correctly, judging what would work."****

I stared at him, the value of the gift he'd given me, however much I hadn't wanted to become one of them, sinking in. I slid into the chair before me.

Ethan nodded. "I thought that might do it. Now, your objections to having been changed have been duly noted. So for the moment, what say we move on? I don't want that between us, even if you have decided I'm your mortal enemy." He **lifted**** brows in challenge. I didn't bother to deny it.**

I paused, then asked, "Duly noted?"

Ethan smiled knowingly. "Noted and recited in front of a witness." His gaze flicked to the corner of the room, and he gazed at Mallory with curiosity. "I haven't met your companion."

Ethan smirked. He would enjoy the challenge that Merit brought to the House, he just hoped he wouldn't regret the change. He knew that his future self was attracted to Merit, he could tell. He was now interested in what else would occur between them both.****

"Mallory **Carmichael****, my roommate."**

Mallory glanced up from the thick book she was perusing. "Yo."

"And your backup, I presume," he said, rising and walking to a bar tucked into the bank of bookshelves on the left side of the room. He poured amber-colored liquor into a chubby glass and watched me over the rim as he sipped its contents. "I've met your father."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

Chuck chuckled. "Yes, Joshua has always been hard to take, even in small doses. He and Merit clashed so much that it is easier to tolerate the other at a distance and with no one actually connecting her to him."****

He cradled the glass in his hands. "You aren't close to your family?"

"My father and I don't get along. We have different priorities. He's solely focused on building his financial kingdom."

"While Merit's not," Mallory offered from her corner. "She's perfectly happy dreaming about Lancelot and Tristan."

"Lancelot and Tristan?" he asked.

"A student of romantic literature," mused Luc "yes, she will be a change in the House. But I would move off the topic of her family, or she will assume that is the only reason you bothered to save her.****

Embarrassed at the love-struck teen implication, I stammered out, "I am - was - working on my dissertation. Before."

Ethan finished his drink and put the glass on the bar, then leaned back against it, arms crossed. "I see."

"Honestly, I doubt that you do. But if you hoped changing me would help you access Merit money, you're out of luck. I don't have it - either the money or the access."

Ethan looked momentarily startled, and didn't meet my gaze when he pushed off the bar and moved back to the desk. When he was seated again, he frowned at me - not in anger, I thought, but in puzzlement. "What if I said that I could give you things? Would that ease the transition?"

There was five simultaneous face palms.

"Liege," said Malik in a long suffering voice "where has she given any indication that she gives a damn about all that?" Ethan refused to meet anyone's gazes. ****

Across the room, Mallory groaned.

"I'm not my parents."

I was the recipient of another long stare, but **this one**** held a glimmer of respect. "I'm beginning to see that."**

"You were testing her?" asked Scott "a good way to see if she would be open to bribes and how to gain her loyalty." Luc nodded.

"Gain her loyalty and she would be a valuable asset." Said Luc****

Finally finding my footing - he may have been a vampire, but he was subject to human prejudices just like everyone else - I relaxed back into the chair, crossing my legs and arms, and arching a brow at him.

"Is that what you thought? That I'd see the Armani and the Hyde Park address, and I'd be so excited I'd forget that I hadn't consented?"

"Perhaps we've both misjudged the situation," he allowed. "But if there's such animus in your family, why do you go by 'Merit'?"

I glanced over at Mallory, who was picking a bit of lint from one of the heavy velvet curtains that lined the windows. She was one of only a handful of friends who knew the entire story, and I wasn't about to add Ethan Sullivan to that group.

"It's better than the other option," I told him.

There was a moment of silence and then there was the sound of knocking. Ethan nodded to Malik to take care of it. It was Margot with a selection of drinks, blood and food, followed by Amber.

"Liege," said Margot, taking note of who was in the room "the food you required." Ethan smiled and nodded at Margot.

"Thank you for your effort," said Ethan "to give notice, we will all be needing the same for the foreseeable future. We have much to discuss and have chosen to hold out meetings here." Margot smiled and nodded before leaving, noticing the frustration on Amber's face that she had still not been acknowledged. Ethan didn't even seem to register her presence. The others watched intensely. This would be entertaining as all had noted Ethan's increasing interest in Merit. Amber walked up to Ethan, who had stood to get a drink and caressed his arm, throwing out her chest in an attempt to gain his attention.

"What do you want Amber?" asked Ethan not even looking up from poring himself a scotch and blood. Amber frowned.

"I wished to know if you needed assistance," said Amber in a low breathy voice obviously meaning to be seductive but falling short.

"And why would I need your assistance?" asked Ethan "this is an inter house situation and you are not skilled n anything required in this situation."

"You have the other ranking vampires here," complained Amber like a child "I am your consort, I am ranked above Malik," here eyebrows were raised "I should be here!" the temperature in the room dropped. Angry magic filled the room.

"Amber," said Ethan "your position only exists as long as I desire you. That makes you less that just about every vampire in this house. You overestimate your importance to both the house and yourself. Remove yourself form the room. You only have the position you have so I can sleep with you. It can easily be replaced." Ambers face whitened and she cast her eyes down in fear of being replaced before leaving. Luc looked carefully at his Master.

"How long has she been like this?" asked Ethan. Malik and Luc exchanged glances.

"For a while now," said Malik "she has been demanding that she be assigned her own guard detail and that we give her a jewellery allowance." Ethan sighed and pinched his brown.

"I will deal with her," said Ethan, "help yourselves to the food and drink."

A few minutes later everyone was back in their seats with a drink and something to eat. Chuck turned to Catcher.

"A privacy spell maybe?" he asked before Catcher nodded. Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Amber was too interested in the meeting. She may eavesdrop." Everyone nodded "Jonah, continue"

**Ethan seemed to consider that before averting his gaze to a pile of papers on his desk. He shuffled them. "And you aren't undead. You aren't undead, or the walking dead, and Buffy isn't a reliable anatomical resource. You didn't die that night. Your blood was taken and replaced. Your heart never stopped beating. You're better now, genetically, than you were before. A predator. The top of the food chain. I've made you an immortal, assuming you manage to keep out of trouble. If you follow the rules, you can have a long, productive life as a Cadogan vampire. Speaking of, did Helen give you everything you need? You received a copy of the Canon?"**

I nodded.

"Have you had blood yet?"

"Bagged blood was delivered to the house, but I haven't had any. To be honest, it didn't look that appetizing."

"You got plenty during the transition, so the thirst hasn't hit you yet. Give it another day. You'll want it badly enough when First Hunger strikes." Ethan's lips tipped up, and he smiled. It was a little disarming - that smile. He looked younger, happier, more human. "Did you say bagged blood?"

"That's what was delivered. Why is that funny?"

"Because you're a vampire of the Cadogan line. You can drink directly from humans or other vampires. Just don't kill anyone."

I put a hand across my stomach, as if the touch could still the greasy wave that suddenly rolled through it. "I'm not going to bite someone. I don't want to drink at all, bagged or otherwise, people or not. You can't just go around and" - I waved a hand in the air - "chew on people."

Ethan clucked his tongue. "And to think - we were so close to having a normal conversation. Merit, you're an adult. I suggest you learn to accept your circumstances, and quickly. Like it or not, your life has changed. You need to come to terms with exactly who you are."

"Good," said Catcher "you are challenging her. She isn't a submissive, she is an Alpha vampire. Challenge her and you may gain her respect and loyalty. At least you have finally stopped treating her like a misbehaving child." Chuck nodded in agreement. ****

"I know who I am," I assured him.

A golden eyebrow winged upward. "You know who you were. I know who you are, Merit, and who you'll come to be."

"And what is that?"

His face was completely, serenely confident. "Mine. My vampire. My subject."

Chuck winced "here come the fireworks." Luc, Malik and Scott leaned forward in anticipation of conflict between two powerful vampires.****

The possessiveness called my anger, and it rose, flowered and rushed across my body with a warmth that curled my toes. That warmth was delicious, and yet the emotion felt strange - separate, somehow. As if it wasn't my anger, but an anger inside me. Whatever the source, it was pervasive, strong, and thrilling.

Catcher frowned. "the vampire is separate, this could be dangerous. The predator wants to prove either her dominance or why she would be a good mate."

**I stood up and asked him, my voice huskier, lusher, "Would you like to test that theory?"**

Ethan's gaze dropped to my lips, and he wet his own, but when he responded, seconds later, his tone was chill. Composed. The tone of Master-subduing-rebellious-peon. "You forget yourself, Initiate. You're two days old. I've three hundred and ninety-four years. Do you really want to test your mettle against me?"

I wasn't completely stupid. I knew my answer to that question should have been a resounding no. But that didn't stop my body, which I was beginning to learn was operating on a completely different frequency from the rest of my brain, from responding with all the bravado it could muster, "Why not?"

Luc rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Vampires had many classifications, but there was a core classification that many now disregarded. The dominant from the submissive. A submissive wasn't good to be in a leadership position, but an Alpha was. Ethan was the ultimate Alpha, searching for the Alpha female of his vampires. It looked like he had found that in Merit.****

A heavy silence descended, the only sound penetrating it the solid thud of my heart. Ethan pushed back his chair. "Come with me."

"What did you just do?"

Mallory and I followed Ethan back through the first floor of Cadogan House.

"I don't know," I whispered back. "Vampire Merit's a lot braver than People Merit."

"Yeah, well, you better figure out a way to reconcile the genetics, 'cause Vampire Merit just landed you in some serious shit."

"Why did she have to challenge him?" asked Chuck sighing "she is going to be trouble."****

We took a right, descended a flight of stairs, and followed Ethan through another hallway to a set of antique wooden doors. The room we entered was huge and bright, the center of its wooden floor covered with a set of tatami mats. Half the height of the twenty-foot-high walls was covered in gleaming wood; the remainder, up to an overhanging balcony supported by massive wooden columns, showcased an impressive collection of antique weaponry, including swords, maces, bows, axes, and wicked-looking knives.

This was a room for sparring.

It took a moment for the implication to settle in.

"You're kidding, right?" I asked, turning to him. "You can't actually think I'm going to fight you?"

Ethan regarded me coolly and began unbuttoning his shirt. Question answered, I thought, and averted my eyes after the first peek of toned chest.

Ethan smirked. He was no fool. Merit was going to be incredibly useful to him, but there was that refusal to be submissive to him that he had been searching for to be his equal. He had thought he had had that with Lacey and Amber, but they were only Alpha enough to gain his attention, not enough to hold his attention for too long. Already he tiered of Amber.****

I walked into the middle of the floor, thinking I'd feel better if I had a better grasp on my surroundings. Ethan's arsenal was impressive - a set of crossed pikes, blue ribbons hung from their ends; a hefty broadsword; a black wooden shield bearing a golden oak tree, the acorns painted red; rows of unsheathed katanas.

"Experience?" Ethan called out behind me.

"Ballet and jogging. And whatever extra strength two days of being fanged will give me." I made the mistake of turning around just as he was pulling the button-up shirt over his head. My mouth went dry. His shoulders were broad and perfectly sculpted, as was the rest of his torso. His chest was firm, his stomach flat and lean, dotted only by the pucker of navel and a thin line of dark blond hair that disappeared into the waist of his trousers. Around his neck was a thin gold chain, on which hung a tiny oval of gold with a design stamped into it. It looked like a saint's medal, although I doubt any saints would have approved of a Master vampire wearing it.

Ethan caught me staring and lifted a brow, and I looked quickly away. Mallory yelled my name, waving me frantically toward where she stood at the edge of the mats. When I reached her, she shook her head at me.

"You cannot seriously think you're going to fight this guy. He could kick your ass with one arm tied behind his back, much less with all his voluminous vampire powers. He's probably stronger than you, faster than you. He can probably jump higher. Hell, he can probably glamour you into making out with him right there on the mats."

We simultaneously looked over to where Ethan, half naked, was toeing off black leather loafers. The muscles in his abdomen clenched as he moved. So did the lines of corded muscle across his shoulders.

God, but he was beautiful.

"Can she stop feeding our Master's ego?" said Luc to Malik who smirked.

"I agree," said Malik "his ego is big enough already." The room filled with laughter from all but Catcher and Ethan.

"Merit will be a bad influence on you," sad Ethan. Catcher meanwhile couldn't hel but wonder if the intensity of the attraction was for than the Alpha male thing. If it was their sould recognising each other.****

I narrowed my gaze.

Beautiful but evil. Wicked. The repugnant dregs of foul malevolence. Or something.

"Jesus," Mallory whispered. "I want to support your quest for revenge and all, but maybe you should just let him glamour you." She looked at me, and I could tell she was trying not to laugh. "Either you're fucked, or you're fucked, right?'

I rolled my eyes at her. "You're not helping."

The shuffle of footsteps rang through the room. We looked up. Vampires were filling the balcony, all dressed in black, all throwing hateful looks at me and Mallory. As I took in their obvious disdain, the weight of the risk I'd taken settled into my bones. According to the aptly named Canon, vampire society was based on antiquated notions of feudalism, including unfailing loyalty to a House and its Master. I'd walked into my House - into Ethan's House - spouted off, and challenged him to a fight. Twenty-seven years of trying to live under my parents' radar, of never causing enough trouble to raise their notice, and I'd made two very big mistakes in a matter of days. Walking across campus had nearly killed me. Challenging Ethan . . . Well, we'd find out soon enough.

"Probably this wasn't the best decision I've ever made," I admitted.

"No," Mallory agreed, but when I looked at her, her eyes shone bright with appreciation. "But it's ballsy. And you've needed to make a ballsy decision."

"Just a minute ago you said - "

"Forget it. I know what I said," she interrupted. "I've changed my mind. Geniuses are entitled. This is the right thing to do. This is the new Merit." She hugged me quickly, then stepped back. "Kick his ass, dead girl."

Ethan joined us, and made a gallant bow. When he straightened again, he clucked me beneath the chin. "Don't lose that courage now, Initiate."

**"It wasn't my courage - the vampire challenged you."**

"The separation is causing too many problems," said Scott before looking at Ethan "don't ever use drugs during a change, Merit is still mostly in control, but if the vampire takes control, she is too powerful to be able to live." Luc, Malik and Jonah all nodded. Ethan looked round the room before nodding himself, regretful that he would have made such a mistake.****

"You are the vampire, Merit, now and forever. But sometimes the mind needs a chance to catch up with the genetics," he allowed.

"She was trying to tell us," said Ethan "I wonder how long it will be before the problem is fixed."

"How would you fix this?" asked Malik, asking the question no body wanted answered.****

I cast a worried glance to the balcony. "I hope that happens soon."

He chuckled. "I'm not going to hurt you, and despite the fact that you've broken virtually every rule in the Canon, I'll make you a deal."

I faced him again, forced myself to meet his green eyes, despite the trembling of my hands. "What?"

"If you manage to land a blow, I'll relieve you of your obligations to me."

****

It was the opposite of what I'd have predicted - which was something of the "If you survive this, I'll let you heal before punishing you for challenging me" variety. By those standards, it was a good deal, if improbable-sounding. I searched his face, not sure if he was serious. "How do I know you'll keep your word?"

Ethan lifted his gaze to the balcony of vampires above us. "They know."

When our gazes met again, I nodded. I handed the crumpled death threat, which I'd been too busy being stupid to bring up, to Mallory, tugged at the bottom of my T-shirt, and followed Ethan into the middle of the room. He turned and bowed slightly. "One hit. That's all you need to do."

"I think we will all agree to no interruptions in the fight sequence" said Luc deadly serious "this could tell us much about how the separation affect Merit while fighting." Everyone agreed.****

With no further ado, he kicked, an elegant roundhouse that would have brought his bare foot across my face had I not fallen back. I hit the mat on my back, my breath rushing out with the impact.

As I lay there, the gallery tittering above me, I wasn't sure which scared me more: the fact that he'd nearly kicked me in the face, or the fact that I'd been fast enough to avoid it.

I had changed.

"Nice reflexes."

I looked up to find Ethan a few feet away, peering down at me curiously. He wasn't the only one with questions. I wondered how much more I could do, so I pushed my palms flat behind me, brought up my legs, rolled back, and popped onto my feet in a quick bounce.

"Very nice."

I shrugged off the compliment, but I was thrilled by the motion. I hadn't danced classically in years, but I'd always relished the few seconds of being airborne in a grand jete - the brief sensation of fighting gravity . . . and winning. This was similar, but infinitely more satisfying. My body felt even lighter, sprightlier than when I was in top dancing form. Maybe there were advantages to being a vampire.

I grinned back at Ethan. "Just taking her for a test spin." Then I circled, looking for a weakness. Ethan bounced on the balls of his feet and crooked his hand at me in invitation. "Then let's see what you can do."

Someone started music, and Nine Inch Nails' "The Hand That Feeds" spilled into the room.

"Apropos," he muttered, and crooked his hand again.

NIN was an interesting choice for a nearly four-hundred-year-old vampire. Whatever his issues, I couldn't fault his taste in music.

Back to the challenge at hand, I tried a punch. I swung forward, rotating my wrist as I tried to catch him in a jab, but he avoided it, followed the motion of my hand, and swung his leg into a low sweep that nearly brought my feet out from under me. But I jumped just in time and arched my back into a handspring, which put me a few feet away and out of his range.

Or so I thought, until he rushed forward so quickly, the motion was blurred. I flipped back again, then again, the motion nearly effortless, but he kept coming. When I popped up the last time, I instinctively crouched, which put the cross he'd directed at my jaw out of range. He struck air, and I reached out arms to grab his knees, but he flew over me, landing behind me with a gentle thud.

I pushed to my feet again, and turned to see him grinning wildly, his eyes blazing green. "I'm impressed. Let's do it again." Then his expression went solemn, and he bounced on the balls of his feet and crooked a hand again in invitation. Rolling my eyes at the Matrix replay, I tried a butterfly kick. I'd once seen a kick-boxing instructor try it, but as a human I hadn't had the power or stretch to execute it.

Being a vampire changed the rules. Now I had the strength to push myself into the air and swing my legs around, to spin my body horizontally.

Still, Ethan's reflexes were faster than mine, so I missed him again. He threw his torso back nearly 180 degrees, all the while keeping himself upright, and completely avoided my extended legs.

"So close," he offered breathily.

"Not close enough." But I grinned when I said it, thrilled that I'd managed the move. It pleased the crowd, too, and they hooted appreciatively. "Careful, Liege!" someone called out. "She might scar that pretty face."

Ethan laughed good-naturedly. "God forbid," he told the gallery. "Then I'd only have fabulous wealth and canny instincts to rely on." The vampires chuckled together, and he tipped his head up to smile at the crowd.

That was my chance, and I took it. Ethan was distracted, so I rushed him, but the sneaky bastard anticipated my move. He edged to the left just before I could take him down. I braced my arms to hit the ground as I flew past him, but before I made contact, he grabbed my arm, spun me around midair, and pushed me to the ground. I landed flat on my back with Ethan above me, his body stretched atop mine. He neatly captured my wrists in his hands and pushed them - despite my squirming - to the mat above my head.

The crowd erupted into catcalls and lewd suggestions.

"You baited me!" I accused.

His lips scant inches from my face, he smiled wolfishly. "And so easily." I squirmed, but he pushed me harder against the mat and slid a knee between mine. "Initiate, you can guess exactly where that's going to lead."

"Please tell me the books won't be filled with graphic detail on my Granddaughters love life?" asked Chuck closing his eyes "because there are some things I would rather remain unknown." The others chuckled.****

I growled in irritation.

At least, I told myself it was irritation, and not at all the fact he smelled delicious, a clean combination of linen, cotton, and soap. Not the fact that the weight of his body on mine felt completely natural - a languid heat suddenly flowing through my chest, like the union of our bodies had closed a circuit.

I tried to tune out the sensation and, embarrassed at the silvering of my eyes - I have to admit, I had a sudden, new sympathy for men faced with hiding their arousal - I squeezed them shut. Ethan let me calm, and when I finally opened my eyes, his face was blank.

"Do you agree that you failed to land a blow?"

I paused, but nodded. "Unless you're willing to give me a freebie?"

For a heartbeat, his gaze dropped to my lips. I wondered if he'd kiss me, if he thought about it, if he felt the pull like I did. But he looked away, then loosened my wrists and pushed himself up. He offered me a hand, which I took, and let him pull me to my feet . . . to the boos and general disappointment of the peanut gallery.

Luc narrowed his eyes. "she is raw, but could be a rather good guard. She has the instincts for it, with some training, she would be fantastic." Malik nodded.

"and the vampire separation didn't seem to control her." Replied Malik "but the question is if it will be used against the house or not."****

"Is this why you came?" he asked when we were both upright again. "To fight me?"

Mallory must have heard the question over the mumbling of the crowd, as she stepped forward, the note in her outstretched hand. "We came for this."

Ethan wiped his brow with the back of a hand, then took the note. He read it, his expression blanking. "Where did you get this?"

"It was wrapped around a brick that was thrown through our living room window," I said.

His gaze snapped up. "Were you hurt?" He scanned my body, looking for injuries.

Luc looked at Ethan. "Liege, you know as well as I that you are more interested in this that that or a Master and Novitiate. You know what it could mean." Ethan refused to acknowledge that Luc said anything.****

"We're fine. There were three of us in the house, and we're all fine."

**"Three?"**

"Mallory's boyfriend was there."

"Ah."

I thumped the note with a finger. "What's this about? Is there a vampire war I don't know about? Did changing me piss someone off?"

He frowned as he perused the note again. "Perhaps your initial attacker is bitter about not having finished the job, or about my having finished it for him. We believed he, the one who bit you, was a Rogue - a vampire living outside the House system. The note would suggest that's true. It's also possible there's a connection between your attack and the attack that killed Jennifer Porter."

It wasn't the first time I'd considered that connection, but the idea was more unnerving coming from his lips. It gave legitimacy to the possibility that I was the intended victim of a vampireturned-serial killer. But it also raised other questions.

"You know, it's quite a coincidence that you were trolling across campus at the same time I was attacked by a vamp."

He lifted deeply green eyes to mine. "There was a considerable amount of luck involved."

We looked at each other for a moment.

"Ethan," I softly said, "you didn't kill Jennifer Porter, did you?"

His lashes fell, crescents of long, dark blond against golden skin. "No, I didn't kill her. Nor did anyone from my House."

Ethan closed his eyes. He didn't understand why he felt hurt that Merit had made that assumption, but he did. It was a logical path for Merit to think about, but instead of feeling offended and insulted, like he would if any other vampire made the assumption, he just felt hurt. He looked at Malik who nodded.****

I wasn't sure if I believed him, although I had no reason to doubt his honesty, not when he'd dealt with me, even I could admit, generously. I'd openly challenged the head of my House, and all I'd suffered for it was a little embarrassment before a cadre of vampires I didn't know. I opened my mouth to ask about the note, but before I got anything out, something set off the gallery. They began to yell down at us, the general consensus being that I deserved a beating.

"Liege!" one yelled. "You can't let her get away with challenging you!"

He raised his gaze to his vampires. "You're right. I'll send her to her room without dessert and take away her cell phone!"

The crowd snickered, but Ethan raised a hand again, and as if he was conducting the symphony of their voices, they quieted immediately. Whatever my issues with his authority, they were clearly much less reticent.

"Friends, she made a good-faith effort to best me. And since she hasn't yet taken the oaths, she hasn't" - he glanced at me - "technically breached the Canon. Besides, she rose a mere two days ago, and nearly managed to catch me. She will make an undeniably important addition to the House, and we all know how . . . delicate our alliances are."

There were fewer titters now, mixed with reluctant nods.

"More important, she came here in fear for her life." He held up the note. "She rose a mere two days ago, and she's been threatened."

The redhead who'd accompanied him in the parlor stepped to the edge of the balcony. "Are you sure she hasn't brought war to us, my Liege?"

If I had any question as to what she was to him, her cannily cocked hip and bedroom eyes were answer enough. Girlfriend. Lover. Consort, if we were sticking with feudal terms. I expected to see Ethan's emerald eyes on her lush curves, but when I turned back to him, his gaze was on me, his smile cocky, like he knew I'd been appraising his mistress.

Luc, Catcher and Malik closer. Catcher and Malik, because they knew why he was suddenly disinterested in Amber. Luc and also Malik because they sensed the end of Amber's reign as Consort. Ethan was simply wondering why she seemed so annoying. He had had consorts before, but they never lasted long. Why did Amber think she was something special that he would actually be bothered to keep around?****

I shrugged. "She seems nice enough, if you like the busty, voluptuous, gorgeous type."

"Much to my dismay" - and that rang clear in the irritably flat tone of his voice - "I find I have a sudden taste for stubborn, lithe brunettes with horrible fashion sense."

He might as well have been parroting lines from Pride and Prejudice, for all the disdain that rang through his voice, his obvious aversion at being attracted to a woman so declasse. Self-conscious again of my casual clothes - but cognizant of the fact that I looked good in them - I managed not to tug at my T-shirt or jeans. Instead, I slipped thumbs into my belt loops and tapped fingers against my flat hips. Ethan watched the movement intensely. When his eyes lifted again, I arched an eyebrow. "Not even in your dreams, Sullivan."

Luc knew that Lindsay would love Merit and he could see himself viewing Merit as a little sister. But he could also see that she and his Master were perfect for each other and that Merit would be hurt a lot before Ethan realised it.****

He only grunted in response.

I smirked.

The door to the sparring room opened, and Malik entered with a tall man. This one wore his slacks and dress shirt with discomfort, and from the strong set of his jaw, broad shoulders, and tousled sun-kissed hair, I guessed he'd be more comfortable in jeans and cowboy boots. I let my gaze drop, checked his shoes. Sure enough, they were black alligator with silver-tipped toes. Called that one.

"Finally," said Luc "I am introduced. I can't believe it took so long," the room just rolled their eyes.

**It also occurred to me that I hadn't yet seen an unattractive vampire. They were all fit, tall, impeccably groomed, undeniably handsome. Flattering, I guess, that they'd made me one of them, unless you thought too hard about the circumstances.**

Ethan approached the men and handed over the note. They reviewed it in turn, chatting and occasionally glancing over at me and Mallory. She linked an arm through mine.

"I've decided this is going to be a treat to watch."

I slid her a dubious glance.

"I've known you for three years. That entire time, you've been puttering around the little ivory tower you built for yourself. You need to be rescued. And if you can't be rescued by Prince Tall, Sexy, and Alive" - she looked over at the trio of deliberating vampires and scanned Ethan's half-naked body - "he's certainly the next best thing." She made an evil-sounding chuckle. "And you complained about your oral exams. This boy's gonna be the biggest challenge of your life."

"Calling him a 'challenge' assumes I'm interested. And I wasn't puttering around. I was writing a dissertation."

"You're interested," she declared. "And given that possessive look in his eyes, I'd say he's interested, too."

"He thinks I'm unsophisticated."

She looked over at me. "You're you. Unapologetically you. And he can't do any better than that."

"Liege, you know what she is," said Malik low enough so that Chuck couldn't hear "and denying it will only hurt the both of you." Ethan looked at his Second and old friend.

"She will not be ready for that," said Ethan "she has to come to me on her own and she cannot become a weakness." Malik sighed but nodded.

**I kissed her cheek. "Thanks, Mal."**

"Don't even think about it," said Malik to Luc who had opened his mouth to declare Mal was his new nickname. He just pouted.****

"Yup." She released me and ogled the threesome of vamps, who stood in a tight knot in front of us, discussing our fate. Then she rubbed her hands together. "Now. Which one do I get? How about Cowboy Pete?"

The room filled with laughter and Ethan smirked at the Captain of his Guard, relieved that he was getting a taste of his own medicine.****

I was saved formulating an answer (which, incidentally, would have been something along the lines of "Don't you have a boyfriend?") by Ethan, who motioned us closer with a single crooked finger. When we reached the group, he gestured to his comrades. "Malik, my Second, who I believe you've met, and this is Luc, Captain of my Guards." He motioned toward us. "Merit, two-day-old Initiate, and Mallory, her roommate, who likely has the patience of a saint."

Everyone laughed once again.****

Mallory chuckled, the traitor, but then got exactly what was coming to her. Although Malik and Luc nodded in greeting, Luc then frowned down at her from his towering six feet and change.

"You have magic."

Mallory blinked. "What's that now?"

Ethan ran a finger delicately over her hair as she flinched beneath it. "Ah," he said, nodding. "I'd wondered."

"Wondered what?" she asked.

"Who brought in the magic," Malik said so casually you'd have thought he was discussing the weather.

Mallory put hands on her hips. "What the hell are you people, and I use that term loosely, talking about?"

Luc inclined his head toward Mallory, but looked at Ethan. "Is it possible she doesn't know?"

"Doesn't know what?" I asked, irritation rising. "What the hell is going on?"

As if I hadn't spoken, Malik shrugged at Luc. "If she's not union yet, it's possible the Order hasn't yet picked up on her post-adolescence. This is Chicago, after all."

"True," Ethan said. "We should call the Ombud, tell him there's a new witch in town."

"New witch?" Mallory asked, paling. "Time out. Who's a witch, hoss?"

Ethan glanced at her, brow arched, and his tone couldn't have been more bland. "You, of course."

Chuck looked over at Catcher who nodded. Catcher had once told Chuck that his true love would be an unsual sorceress. This seemed to fit the profile.****

While Mallory came to terms with that little revelation, Ethan and his staff filled me in on the current state of vampire relations in Chicago. While most vampires in the world - all the registered vampires - were affiliated with Houses, a minority were categorized as Rogues, vampires who had no ties to a House and no loyalty to a particular Master. There were a number of ways this could happen - being bitten by a vampire who wasn't a Master and thus wasn't strong enough to command the newly changed; by defecting from a House; or by being bitten by an unaffiliated vampire who required no oaths of loyalty or fealty.

Because of the implicit danger they posed to the House structure, they were treated as outcasts. And because they were rarely strong enough individually to take on House vampires, they were usually ignored by the Houses unless they'd chosen, somewhat ironically, to band together into anarchistic units.

Chicago's vamps believed Jennifer Porter's death was the work of a Rogue, maybe one unsatisfied with living in the shadow of Chicago's Houses. This possibility posed two problems.

First, humans didn't know Rogue vampires existed. They knew about the Houses, and seemed to take some comfort in the fact that vampires were organized into political bodies, were supervised by their Masters, and lived by a code - the Canon. That was a kind of existence that humans could relate to. And that was why vamps were tight- lipped about Rogues, about the fact that vampires with no House ties, no supervision, and no laws were living in their midst.

Second, as the vamps in the press conference had pointed out, a Cadogan medal, identical to the one Ethan (and, I belatedly realized with a glance around the room, the rest of the Cadogan vamps) wore snug around his neck, had been found at the site of Porter's death. Ethan was confident no one from his House was involved, and he'd agreed to cooperate fully in the Chicago Police Department's investigation. The CPD had interviewed him, and he'd agreed to interview each and every vampire in residence at Cadogan House to assure himself and the CPD detectives that his House, and his vampires, were innocent. He suspected, as did the representatives of Navarre House with whom he'd spoken (including Celina Desaulniers, its Master), that a Rogue was to blame for Porter's death. But that didn't explain why she'd been killed, especially since the Greenwich Presidium, the organization that regulated vampires in North America and Western Europe, would mete out its own punishment to the offender. Before the death of Jennifer Porter, the possibility of death-by-aspen-stake had been strong enough to protect humans. Now - who knew?

Whoever the perpetrator, the threesome believed my attack was the second attempt by the killer, and the note evidence of his bitterness at having failed to kill me.

"My name was in the paper today," I reminded them, "so the person who threw the brick wasn't necessarily the one who bit me."

"But it was only your last name," Malik said. "It's doubtful he'd have been able to figure out who you were simply because of that."

Ethan shook his head. "She's a Merit. For better or worse, as often as the family appears in the papers, he'd have been able to figure out which Merit was involved. Robert and Charlotte are older and have children. They're not the typical candidates for change."

Disturbing, I thought, that he knew so much about my family. "But if he meant to kill me," I asked, "why the note? The language suggested a choice, like I picked Ethan over the vampire who attacked, picked Cadogan over whatever group he was affiliated with. If he was going to kill me, why would it matter?"

"She is good at investigating," said Luc "she will be very useful in future.****

Luc frowned. "So maybe this isn't related to the Porter girl's death?"

"Maybe it is, and maybe it isn't," Ethan unhelpfully pronounced. "Without more information, we can't discount either possibility. What we do know is that we were the second vampires at the scene of the attack. The language of the threat suggests that whatever plans had been made for Merit - death or otherwise - they'd been unable to follow through. They blame that on her and, to a more general extent, us. Given the tone of the note, maybe the House system more generally."

"So we're definitely thinking Rogues, then," Malik summed up, "or a House with some unspoken animosity toward us. Grey?"

Luc snorted. "Opening day was last week. Scott's attention is on completely different things right now, namely the Cubs' chance at a pennant. It's unlikely he'd be involved in this even if they cared about House politics, which they don't. What about Navarre?"

"We are not completely obsessed with the Cubs," said Scott "and keeping out of politics means that we go unnoticed which means that our own investigations go unnoticed." Ethan just nodded his head in acknowledgment of what was said. Truth was he had considered Scott to be a too laid back Master Vampire. Tonight was proving that incorrect.****

Ethan and Malik shared an undecipherable glance. "Doubtful," Ethan said. "As old and prestigious as Navarre is - "

"Or so they think," Malik interjected.

With an amused expression, Ethan finished, "Navarre would have little to gain from warring with us. Celina's strong, the GP loves her, and she's positioned herself as poster child for Chicago vampires. There's simply no reason for her to worry about Cadogan."

"Which means we've got investigating to do," Luc concluded.

Ethan nodded at me. "Luc will station sentries at your house. We'll continue looking into the threat, and perhaps as we gain information about the Porter death, we'll learn more about this. If you see anything suspicious, or if you're attacked again, call me immediately. He pulled a card from his trouser pocket and handed it to me. It read, in tidy block letters:

CADOGAN HOUSE

(312) 555-2046

NAVR NO. 4 | CHICAGO, IL

"NAVR number four?" I asked, card between my fingers.

"That's our registry number," Malik explained, and I remembered the NAVR tag under the announcement in the Sun-Times. "We were the fourth vampire House established in the United States."

"Ah." I slid the card into my pocket. "Thanks. We'll call if something comes up."

"Not that this visit hasn't been educational," Ethan said, eyes on Mallory, "but we need to get back to work. I believe we've had plenty of excitement for one evening." He dismissed Malik and Luc and motioned us toward the training room door.

The gazes of the vampires we passed still edged toward hostility, but at least they were tempered with curiosity. On the other hand, I'm not sure if that was better or worse; I generally preferred staying under the radar of people-sucking predators.

Or I would have, if I'd given that kind of thing any thought.

Ethan escorted us back through the House. When we reached the front door, he put a hand on my arm. "Mallory, could I have a word with Merit, please?"

"It's your pitch," she replied, and bounced through the doorway to the steps below.

He looked at me. "My pitch?"

"It's a soccer thing. What did you need?"

His mouth tightened into a grim line, and I could tell he was preparing to speechify. "What happened tonight is unusual," he said. "For an Initiate to challenge a Master is virtually unheard of, as is the Master not punishing an individual who has challenged his or her authority. I'm giving you a break because you didn't choose to rise as a vampire, because our laws mandate consent, and you weren't in a position to offer it." He gazed down at me with frigidly green eyes.

"Good," said Catcher "Merit will appreciate the bluntness of what is being said. The vampire in her will also accept it after the fight because your have proven yourself the Alpha."

"Thank you for agreeing with how I have run my own House," said Ethan drily "but that is not the point. Merit needs to learn a lot fast or she will get into trouble quickly."

**"That said, should you ever pull a stunt like this again, you will be disciplined. If you ever raise a hand to me again, you'll rue that decision. I am the Master of this House and in command of three hundred and eight vampires. They look to me for protection, and they give me their loyalty in exchange for it. Should any not understand that bargain, I'm fast, I'm strong, and I'm willing to demonstrate those qualities. Next time, I won't pull my punches. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"**

The chill in his glare tamped down my instinct for sarcasm. I nodded.

"Good." He held out his hand toward the sidewalk, inviting me out of the House. "You have five days yet before the Commendation. The Canon will explain the oaths, the ceremony and the manner in which I will call you to service. Prepare yourself."

Giving him another acquiescent nod, I stepped down to the sidewalk.

"And do something about your clothes," he ordered, just before closing the heavy oak door behind me.

"Good luck," said Chuck "as soon as she was out of her parent's house, she switched instantly to simpler wear. You will not get her to change her style."****

We silently walked back to the car, where I found a club flyer beneath my windshield wiper. I lifted the wiper, scanned the sheet, which advertised Red, a club in River North. I got into the car, unlocked Mal's door, and stuffed the flyer into the glove box. Partying wasn't really on my agenda right now.

The ride back home was quiet as we both, I imagine, mulled over the night's events. I certainly did, especially the enigma of Ethan Sullivan. For the few seconds I hadn't known who he was, I'd been awed by his face and form, intrigued by his nearly tangible sense of power and determination.

Thinking he was pretty was one thing. Infinitely more disconcerting was the fact that after I discovered who he was - and even knowing what he'd taken from me - I could admit to a lingering attraction. His arrogance was irritating, but he was handsome, intelligent, and respected by his subjects. Ethan wore his power - his mantle of confident self-possession - as well as his designer clothes. But danger, I knew, lurked underneath that perfect facade. Ethan demanded complete and utter loyalty with no exceptions and, it seemed, had little willingness to compromise. He was skilled, strong, fast, limber, and confident enough to prove his mettle against an unknown opponent in front of a gallery of observers. And while he might have found me attractive - his flirting was proof enough of that - he wasn't thrilled about the attraction. Quite the opposite - he seemed as eager to be rid of me as I was of him.

Malik closed his eyes and prayed his Master would not do what he thought he would do. He hoped that Ethan would focus on the challenge of Merit and nor aggravating her to the point where he would lose her. ****

For all that, I hadn't been able to banish the memory of my first glimpse of him. An after- image of green irises ghosted across my retinas when I closed my eyes, and I knew nothing would wipe away the visual. The impact had been that strong - like a crater furrowed into my psyche, leaving an empty space that a mortal man seemed unlikely to fill.

I muttered a curse when I realized the anatomical direction that line of thought was headed, and renewed my attention to Chicago's dark streets.

Mallory cleared her throat. "So that was Ethan."

I turned the Volvo down a side street as we neared home. "That was him."

"And you're thinking what?"

I shrugged, unsure how much I wanted to admit to my feelings, even to Mallory. "I should hate him, right? I mean, he did this to me. Changed everything. Took away everything."

Mallory stared out the car window. "You were due for a change, Merit. And he saved your life."

"He made me the walking undead."

"He said you aren't dead. It was just a genetic change. And there are benefits, whether you want to admit them or not."

Just a genetic change, she'd said, like it was a small, simple matter. "I have to drink blood," I reminded her. "Drink. Blood."

Mallory slid me an unpleasant glance. "At least be honest about it - you can drink whatever you want. You eat whatever you want, and you'll probably never gain an ounce on those mile-long legs. Blood's just a new" - she waved a hand in the air - "vitamin or something."

"Maybe," I allowed. "But I can't put toe one in the sun. I can't go to the beach, or drive around with the top down."

And then something incredibly disturbing occurred to me. "I can't go back to Wrigley, Mallory. No Cubs games on a warm Saturday afternoon."

Scott winced "okay, I empathise with her on that front. Taking away the Cuns is a terrible thing to do."****

"You're Irish way back. You get splotchy in the sun, and you haven't been to Wrigley in, what, two years? You'll watch the Cubbies from your bedroom television set, just like you always do."

"I can't go back to school. And my family hates me."

"Hon, your parents have always been horrible. At least this way," she gently said, "you get to feed them a steady diet of inappropriate vampire behavior."

Pleasant as that thought was, it didn't completely assuage the grief. I knew I needed to buck up, to let go of what I'd lost and find a way to survive, to thrive, in my new world. But how do you let go of a lifetime of plans? Of assumptions about your life, about who you were and who you were going to be?

While Mallory was more than willing to dole out advice and urge me to get over "my little quibbles" about having been made a vampire, she wouldn't discuss the trio's bizarre conclusion that she'd brought magic to Cadogan House, that she was a witch. I knew nothing about magic beyond what I'd learned from television and in the tidbits Mallory, in her fixation with the occult, managed to slip into conversation. And it scared me that my normally chatty roommate was avoiding the discussion. So, as I pulled the car into the garage, I tried again.

"Do you want to talk about the other thing?"

"As far as I'm concerned, there is no other thing."

"Come on, Mallory. They said you have magic. Do you feel like you're . . . different? I mean, if they're right, you must have felt something."

She got out of the car and slammed the door shut, and I winced on the Volvo's behalf as Mallory stormed to the sidewalk. "I don't want to talk about it, Merit."

I closed the garage door and followed her, both of us ignoring the black-clad guards who flanked the front door. They were virtually identical to the guards who stood point at the Cadogan gate, tall and gaunt with sleek swords at their sides. Whatever Ethan's faults, he was damn efficient.

We went into the house, which was comfortingly quiet and, present company excluded, vampire-free. Mallory faked a yawn and trudged toward the staircase. "I'm going to bed."

"Mallory."

She stopped at the bottom stair, turned, and looked at me with very little patience. "What?"

"Just - try to be careful. We don't have to talk about it now, but if this threat thing continues, or if Ethan learns anything more about who you are . . ."

"Fine."

As she started up the stairs, desperate to comfort her as she'd done for me, I threw out, "This could be a good thing, Mallory. You could have some special powers, or something."

She stopped and glanced back, her smile sardonic. "Given how I feel right now, I can only assume that my giving you the same bullshit platitudes earlier didn't help you, either." She walked up the stairs, and I heard the slam of her bedroom door. I went to my room and lay on my back on the double bed, staring at the rotating ceiling fan until dawn claimed me.

"The Magic will drive them apart," said Jonah.


End file.
